Living With The Chills
by Batman Lamp-Writer
Summary: A lot can change in a month. You could go from failing to acing a class. You could have a birthday. A month can make or break you. The past month broke me. A lot can change in a month, but even more can change in just 23 seconds. In those 23 seconds, one month ago, I died. Series remake.
1. Mystery Meat

A/N: Yeahhh, my bio page says something about me having trouble focusing on stories or new plots continuously taking up my time? Thus, this. That's not to say I've stopped work on my crossover series or _The Narrow Road_, just that this idea won't _shut up_ until I type up at least an opener for it.

This is actually something I keep coming back to, especially with the fiasco that was season three. Basically, this is a rewrite of the entirety of Danny Phantom, but darker and a bit more, I dunno, realistic, I suppose. Some of the main changes:

1-The people of Amity Park are intelligent. Expect them to get suspicious of who Danny Phantom might really be.

2-Danny's not entirely clueless or as stupid as he sometimes comes across in the show. He's a smart kid, he just has no time any more to study.

3-The ghosts are tougher. As Danny grows in his powers, so will the ghosts. He may not win every battle like he does in the show.

4-Danny won't keep getting the chance to erase timelines (like Reality Trip, King Tuck, and Masters of All Time). If something goes to hell, he's gotta fix it himself.

5-Danny's ghost powers are gonna be a bit different. I've got some theories of my own on how they effect his biology (as those of you who read _Red White and Dead_ may have guessed) and those will be used in this.

6-The timeline. I'm reordering some of the episodes so they make sense (to me, at least) time-wise. For instance, there won't be 15 "episodes" between Halloween and Christmas. There also won't be two summer vacation episodes with five or six school episodes in between. As such, I'll also be changing slight continuity issues as well. Don't flame me on this, as I've explained/will explain my reasoning for these.

So, that done, enjoy! And if you have any ideas or issues about the series that you want to see specifically, let me know.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

Two million, five hundred ninety-two thousand seconds. Forty-three thousand, two hundred minutes. Seven hundred twenty hours. Thirty days. Four weeks.

One month.

A lot can happen in one month. You could go from failing to acing a class. You could have a birthday. A month can make or break you.

The past month broke me. I've spent it freaking out and disappearing, fading away, panicking, dropping things, getting banned from handling anything fragile, and generally having an awful time. All because of one little moment in time.

A lot can change in one month. Even more can change in just 23 seconds.

In those 23 seconds, one month ago, I died.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

"_C'mon, Danny, you should look—"_

"_Dude, wouldn't it be cool—?"_

"_I guess it's back to the drawing boards…."_

"_Banzai!"_

"_Danny, are you okay?"_

"_Danny, just check it out—"_

"_DAAANNYYY!"_

I bolted upright in bed—or so I thought. In reality, I attempted to sit up and instead banged my head into the _bottom_ of my bed. I rolled my eyes. Once again, I'd phased through my bed in my sleep.

"_Danny! Get up, honey, you'll be late for school!"_

"Perish the thought," I mumbled under my breath, but I crawled out from under the bed to get dressed.

Some kids liked school. Some kids hate school. I used to love it, but ever since high school started, it's been one fiasco after another. My grades plummeted, the bullies won't leave me alone, and I've had to worry about accidentally vanishing or fading out during class.

Oh, right. Forgot to mention, I'm half-ghost.

I wasn't born this way or anything. It just sort of… _happened_, about a month ago. One moment, my friends and I were talking about how cool it would be to see inside my parents' Ghost Portal, then the next thing I knew, I'd gone inside and—

Well, the process wasn't pretty.

"_Danny!_"

"Coming, Mom!" I yelled back, throwing on my usual white-and-red t-shirt, pulling on a pair of jeans, and shoving my feet into my well-worn red converse. Then I went downstairs, taking the steps two at a time, and ran straight into my sister.

She giggled, bending and extending a hand to help me up. "Might wanna get those eyes checked, Danny. You're having some issues with your vision."

I blushed lightly at the tease. "Sorry, Jazz."

She waved a hand in dismissal. "It's no problem. But you'll need to grab breakfast quick if you want a ride!"

My eyes went wide, and I rushed into the kitchen, snagging a Poptart from the cabinet and running back out. "Let's go!"

Jazz laughed again, but led the way to her red convertible. "Seriously, Danny, did you forget to set your alarm clock again or something?"

I thought back to the device, smashed to bits from my new super strength. "Or something…."

My sister shook her head, long red hair swishing back and forth. "Well, c'mon, we'll pick up Sam and Tucker on the way."

I grinned. "Thanks, Jazz!" Then I slid into the car as she started the engine.

"What are sisters for?"

We drove in relative silence for a while, then pulled over across from the bus stop both Sam and Tucker used. Both were already waiting, so I leaned over Jazz to honk at them. They glanced up, saw me wave, and came over, sliding into the back easily.

"Hey, Jazz," the girl, a gothic ultra recyclo vegetarian named Sam Manson (but don't _ever_ call her Samantha. Seriously.), said, grinning. Her violet eyes were sparkling mischievously, which usually meant either Tuck or I was about to get a steel-toed combat boot to the shins.

"Hey, guys," Jazz replied as she turned around to head towards school. "What are you three going to be up to after school today?"

My eyes went wide. There was _no way_ we could tell her we were planning on heading to the forest outside town to test out my new ghost powers.

"Arcade."

"Mall."

I slapped a hand to my face as my friends answered simultaneously.

"What?" Jazz asked, obviously confused.

"We're going to the arcade in the mall," Sam responded smoothly. After years of twisting the truth around her parents to get her way, she was the best one at getting us out of trouble.

"Oh." Jazz nodded. "Okay, have fun. When are you getting back? You know you can't miss curfew, Danny."

"I know," I sighed. "We should be back around, what, eight?" I asked, glancing back at Sam and Tuck.

The two nodded, Tuck's nose buried in one of his video games, as usual.

Of course my friends couldn't be normal. Sam, as I already mentioned, is a tree-hugging Goth. She normally wore a black shirt with a purple skull on it, along with black Tripp pants with green zippers and stitching. And of course, those steel-toed boots. Those hurt, by the way. Her hair was a deep black, held up in a half ponytail, with dark purple streaks in the bottom layers of her chin-length style.

Tucker, on the other hand, was a techno-geek who only ate meat. He always had a red beanie on over his dark brown hair, and wore thick black glasses over his deep green eyes. A yellow hoodie he'd gotten from some gaming convention was half-unzipped, showing off a gray shirt reading "Ain't no party like a Time Lord Party, because a Time Lord Party is not bound by typical temporal parameters, and thus, don't stop." A pair of dark green camouflage cargoes and brown work boots finished off his outfit.

I looked back to Jazz. "Yeah, eight."

She nodded. "Alright, I'll tell Mom and Dad." I thought that was it and relaxed, so of course that's when she decided to drop the bomb. "Y'know, Dad wanted to show you guys some of their ghost stuff." Her nose wrinkled at the "g-word," as she called it. See, while our whole family is full of geniuses, Jazz being the smartest of all, I'm only pulling mediocre-at-best grades. But Jazz is the black sheep in a different way.

She doesn't believe in ghosts.

If someone really wanted to, they could trace our ghost-hunting family tree all the way back to Great Britain, 1327. Our most well-known ancestor was Jonathan Fenton-Nightingale, who was a major advocator for the Salem witch trials. Family legend has it he even managed to catch the ghostly familiar of some evil witch by using plants. Or something. Either way, Jazz was the only person in the history of the Fentons to think—like most normal people—that ghosts don't exist.

"Great," I said in response to her statement, rolling my eyes. Sure, I knew ghosts existed and believed in them my whole life, but Jazz and I commiserated about our parents' crazy, non-functioning inventions.

At least, we _did_, until one suddenly started working. You're welcome, Mom and Dad.

Yes, the Portal was the only thing they created (so far) that actually worked. And that was only because I was stupid enough to turn it on while inside it. Seriously, who the heck puts an "on" button inside their machine?

"Well, here we are!" Jazz said happily, putting the car into park. "See you later, Danny!"

The three of us took our cue and hopped out, waving goodbye as we disappeared into the halls, heading towards the frosh wing and our lockers. As we put books away and grabbed our supplies for first period, Sam said, "Guess that answers my question, then."

I frowned. "What question?"

"Whether you're planning on telling your family or not."

I winced. "Sam…." I didn't want to start this argument with her again.

"I'm just saying, Danny, parents don't get it! They're hypocrites, Danny. They tell you things like, 'Oh, you shouldn't yell at others' or 'I'll love you no matter what you do,' then they turn around and do the opposite!" Tucker and I had to dodge around her wildly waving arms as Sam went into anti-parent rant mode. "I mean, my parents told me that, but what happened when I went Goth?"

"They hated you," Tuck and I deadpanned in unison, having heard this millions of times before.

"They hated me!" She pointed at me. "You can't trust what parents say, Danny. They'll just twist everything around so they're right. They _always_ have to be right. _They just don't understand me!_"

"Sam, we're talking about _my_ parents, _my_ problems. Remember?"

She blushed. "R—Right, me too…."

Tucker shook his head. "We just want you to be careful, man. After all, your parents _are_ ghost _hunters_, and you're _half-ghost_."

I sighed. "I know, Tuck. I want to tell them, it's just…. I need to get a handle on these… _powers_ before I tell them. I mean, if I slip up, they'll probably attack me or something, and I already get enough trouble from the jocks without going from geek to freak!"

"Um, kinda like you're doing now?" Both Sam and Tuck looked a little concerned, and when I glanced down, I saw why.

I was sinking through the floor. "GAH!" I grabbed onto my friends, who helped pull me up and held me in place until my legs became tangible again. I sighed once more. "Let's face it, I'm never gonna get this stupid ghost thing under control! Maybe I _should_ tell my parents. They might actually be able to change me back."

"_No!_" Sam yelped. We waited a moment, blushing, for the rest of the crowd to stop staring at us before she continued. "Danny, these powers make you unique, and _unique_ is _good_." She grinned proudly. "That's why I'm an ultra recyclo vegetarian."

Tuck stared blankly at her. "...A what now?"

I rolled my eyes at the fight I knew was coming. "She refuses to eat anything with a face on it."

Tucker gaped.

Freak out imminent! In five, four, three, two—

"_What!_"

Ladies and gentlemen, we officially have a war.

"What?" Sam asked, shrugging. "It's healthy, and I don't kill innocent animals for their flesh like a barbarian."

"But it's _meat!_" Tucker shrieked. "Meat is _good!_ What the hell do you eat?"

"Tofu, veggies, and fruit."

"_Criminal!_"

I rolled my eyes again. This is why I'm an omnivore.

Sam huffed, her fists resting on her hips. "Well, you're gonna have to get used to it, 'cause I finally wore down the faculty to give us an ultra recyclo vegetarian menu this week."

Woah, wait a sec.

"_What?_" Tucker and I both yelled.

Sam smirked. "Yep. So you two are gonna have to man up and eat healthy this week."

"Um, Sam, do you really think—?"

"Ah, Ms. Manson."

We all glanced up to see our Vice Principal-slash-English teacher-slash-substitute for _everything_ Mr. Lancer walking over towards us, picking his teeth clean with a toothpick.

"Hi, Mr. Lancer," we chorused like the good little schoolchildren we are.

_Pfft_, yeah, right.

"On behalf of all the teachers," he began smugly, "I'd like to thank you, Ms. Manson, for your… stand for the health of the student body."

Tucker's nose twitched. "Meat…" he practically growled.

Lancer's smile turned nervous. "And any rumors you might hear about an all-meat buffet for the teachers are hugely off-base. Thanks again, Ms. Manson." He nearly _ran_ away from Tucker's glare.

Which turned onto Sam. "Yeah, thanks for nothing, Sam. Now we have to eat your garbage!"

She scowled at him. "It's not garbage, it's _recyclable, organic matter!_"

Tucker and I both stared blankly at her. "It's garbage."

She crossed her arms over her chest, huffing. "Well, we'll see how you feel about it when everyone else is _happy_ to have a different option for lunch!"

As she stormed off, Tuck turned to me. "You know, for someone who keeps telling us she doesn't want to conform, she certainly seems to be forcing _her_ views on _us_."

I sighed. "Yeah. Well, no one said she was perfect. But, let's get to class before Lancer decides we're perfect candidates for another detention!"

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

Lunch is one of those times where most kids are happy. They get to eat their favorite foods, maybe find a note from their mom in the bottom of their lunchbox, talk with friends freely without getting yelled at by teachers….

Until the menu gets changed. Then lunch is a war zone.

"_FENTON!_"

And apparently, it gets blamed on me.

I looked up to see a blond, angry, overly-muscled jock charging at me. I chuckled nervously, sensing more than seeing Tucker and Sam back up a step reflexively. "Ah, Dash, what seems to be the—?"

Note to self: check shirt collar later for stretching. It can_ not_ be possible to be lifted almost a foot off the floor without my shirt being warped for good.

"Fenton!" Dash Baxter yelled in my face. "I asked for three mud pies, and do you _know_ what they gave me?"

I rolled my eyes. "Three mud pies?"

"_Three mud pies!_ With _real mud! _From the _ground!_" he snarled, pulling me closer towards his face. "All because of your freaky girlfriend!"

"She's not my girlfriend!" I immediately answered, at the same time Sam denied it, as well.

For a second, everyone paused as Sam and I shared a glance, then shrugged. We were used to this strange ability we had to know what the other was thinking.

"Yeah, well," Dash said, struggling to get his stride back, "_you're_ gonna pay for this, Fenton!" He tossed me into the table, then shoved a tray under my face. "Eat it," he demanded, pointing at the plateful of what Sam called turfwiches. Basically, think grass on a slice of bread and you've got it. "Eat _all_ of it!"

I stared for a moment, tossing a half-glare at Sam, then looked around to try to find a way out.

Then, I felt it.

Ever since the accident, I got these strange chills from time to time. It wasn't until now that I realized why.

This one was stronger. I couldn't hide it like I normally could, and the shiver wracked my whole body. Luckily, most people put it off to my fear of Dash. Sam and Tuck, though, didn't. I'd told them about the Chills, but this was the first time they've seen it. The cold swept through me from head to toe, and I felt my eyes being drawn to the kitchen area behind the lunch line counters where a floating, green woman in a pink apron was going through the containers of Sam's ultra recyclo garbage.

But I took too long staring. Dash shoved my face towards the turfwiches, yelling, "_Eat it, Fenton!_"

I cast another worried glance at Sam and Tuck, then picked up one of the fake sandwiches. As I brought it, grimacing, towards my mouth, another Chill went through me as the woman—obviously a ghost—scowled at what she saw instead of what's usually for lunch on Tuesdays. The glow around her, which had been subtle before, flamed up.

My eyes went wide. "Ah—_garbage fight!_" I screamed, throwing the fake-wich across the room. Immediately, the call was taken up by the surrounding students, and I dove under the table with Tucker.

Sam remained standing for a moment, trying to make herself heard over the yelling of the students. "It's _not_ garbage, it's—!"

Tucker and I pulled her under the table. "Look, forget the recyclable whatever," I said quickly, "we've got a bigger problem." I pointed out the ghost to them.

"So _that's_ why you looked like someone cranked up the AC!" Tuck exclaimed.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, Tuck. But what do we do about this? I don't have any of my parents' supposedly ghost-fighting weapons, not that I'd be able to get them to work in time to be of use, anyway, and we've got no clue what she wants or why she's here!"

Sam and Tuck stared at me, gaping. "You're kidding, right?" Sam asked.

"What?"

They simultaneously rolled their eyes. "Danny, you're _half-ghost_. Go claim this place as your haunt or something!" Tuck continued.

I blinked at them. "My _what?_"

Sam sighed. "Ghosts have a haunt, Danny. A place they claim as their own and scare away anyone who comes in uninvited. Should be able to do the same with other ghosts, right?"

"But—!"

They shoved me towards the kitchen. "_Go!_"

I glanced back at them, then headed for the kitchen, thinking it couldn't hurt to try.

"_I'm gonna kill you for this, Fenton!_"

I rolled my eyes again. Yeah, great, I haven't heard _that_ from you for the past three years….

I shoved open the door to the kitchen area and turned to face the ghost. "Shouldn't you be, I dunno, haunting a bingo hall, or something?" I asked, staring for a moment. She looked kinda like Tucker's grandma.

She spun around to look at me. "Excuse me, dearie," she murmured, "but today's lunch should be meatloaf. But I don't see any meatloaf here."

I completely missed the sound of the door opening behind me. "Um, that's 'cause the menu was changed."

And her ghostly aura just flared up again, along with her hair, her eyes, and pretty much everything else. "_Who dares to change the menu?_"

"She does!" Tucker replied immediately. I spun to see him pointing at Sam, both of whom had just come in.

"Tucker!" we both yelled at him.

"What? She _did_."

"_You!_" The ghost had turned on Sam, eyes turning bright red. "_You changed the menu! The menu hasn't changed in 50 years!_"

"Well, then it was time for a change," Sam stated.

"The menu is _sacred!_" the ghost shrieked, waving a hand towards Sam. "_You shall pay for this heresy!_" Her aura evaporated back to normal for a second. "Cookie?"

Thrown off-guard, all three of us shook our heads.

And her aura was back with a vengeance. "_Then PERISH!_"

That's when things got freaky. I know Sam and Tuck couldn't feel it or see it, but the aura trail was obnoxiously obvious to me. It swirled out from the ghost, searching for something before finding it and surging towards it. I watched for a moment, shocked, as her aura flew away until just a little remained around her. Then, it pulled taut, followed almost immediately by it being reeled back in, pulling an obscene amount of meat along with it.

"...What," Sam and Tuck gaped in unison. Of course, Sam looked disgusted and Tucker looked thrilled, but….

Okay, it was _really_ freaky. The meat swirled around the ghost, forming a giant meat monster where she'd been standing—er, floating.

We stared for a moment before Sam smacked me on the arm. I grabbed it, yelping and glaring at her. "What the heck was _that_ for?"

"Do your ghost thing!" she exclaimed, waving a hand at the meat monster. "Do _something!_"

"R—Right…." I turned to face the monster-ghost-thing again. "I—I'm goin' ghost!"

I squeezed my eyes shut, mentally searching inside myself for that cold sphere of energy that held my ghost form. I tapped into it, sensing more than seeing the two blue-white rings spreading from my waist, dividing in two to travel up and down my body, washing that frigid, ghostly cold over my whole body. As the rings passed, my appearance changed from my usual black hair, blue eyes, and clothing to white hair, neon green eyes, and a black and white hazmat suit, complete with white gloves, belt, and boots. A vibrant white aura surrounded me, a shade that had taken me several days to get used to, but that Sam and Tuck apparently didn't see. They probably can't see the other ghost's aura, either.

I opened my eyes once more, staring down the Lunch Lady ghost. "Now, get out of my haunt! Uh, town. Place. Yeah." I could feel Sam and Tuck's eyes rolling. I glanced back at them, wincing. "Too much rambling?"

Both nodded, eyebrows raised.

"...Damn." I turned back to the ghost, eyes going wide as the meat monster came flying at me. "Aw, _crap!_" I dove to the side, just barely dodging in time. I rolled back to my feet, thanking my ninth-degree-black-belt mom for all those mixed martial arts lessons as a kid. I jumped over another attack, then did a handspring away from a third.

...Something tells me if I'd shown off like this in gym class, I wouldn't have all these bully problems…. Oh, well.

The ghost's aura flung out again, this time pulling at all the dishes and silverware lying around the kitchen and tossing them at me. I had to react quickly to catch the kitchenware before Tuck or Sam could be hit. Within a minute, I was carrying pretty much every dish in the school, balanced on my arms. I started unloading everything back onto the counters, sighing and saying, "I guess if this whole half-ghost superhero thing doesn't work out, I could have an exciting career as a busboy. If I can find any place hiring around here…."

The Chills wracked my body again as the ghost behind me flared her aura once more. "The menu should _never_ be changed! There are some things in this world that should stay as they are, girlie!" Her aura died again. "Anybody want cake?"

This time, Sam and Tuck nodded.

Wow, I'm gonna get whiplash from her aura. It flared as she yelled, "Well, _too bad!_ Children who change the menu don't get dessert!" She dove at them.

I flew over to them in a rush, grabbing both their arms and practically dragging them to the wall before reaching inside myself for that icy sphere again. We passed straight through the wall, like I'd almost done in the hall earlier. I let go of the others, sighing in relief before grinning. "It worked! Awesome!"

Sam glared at me before turning her scowl on the wall separating us from the ghost. "_This_ is the thanks I get for thinking like an _individual?_"

"Um, you're kinda forcing your opinions on the whole school. How's that individual?" Tuck stated.

Sam's glare was leveled at him.

"Uh, I mean, thanks?" Tuck tried to smile innocently, but, let's face it, Sam knew him too well to fall for it.

Then, the lockers blew open. Papers and books and other personal items went flying out of each locker, starting up a whirlwind at the opposite end of the hall. The Chills didn't fade this time, and I tried to hide the shivering as much as I could. The Lunch Lady ghost appeared at the end of the hall, the whirlwind right behind her.

"Any luck that'll take her out?" Tuck muttered as we watched more and more things in the school get pulled into the mini twister. Among those objects was meat.

A _lot_ of meat.

"Steak?" Tuck wondered, watching the flying food. "Ribeye? Burgers? Where—?" He cut himself off as he remembered our teacher's words from this morning. He glared. "_Lancer._"

I shook my head. "Um, bigger problem here, Tuck!" I pointed up at the meat monster, which was towering over Sam.

"Meat is the _strongest_ of the five food groups, and I'll show you _why!_"

I lunged to stand between the ghost and Sam, yelling back, "Oh, no you don't! The only thing here with an expiration date is—!" The white-blue ring sparked to life around my fist, spreading out to change me back to human form. "—you…. Er, that was _not_ supposed to happen…."

Sam scowled at me. "Ya _think?_"

The meat monster flung out an arm, throwing me into a set of lockers. My head hit hard against the metal, leaving me dazed as I slid to the floor. There was another metallic bang across the hall, and I heard Sam screaming something as I shook my head to clear it, moaning at the developing migraine.

"Dude! Change back!" Tuck was frantic, rushing over from where he had also been tossed into the wall, albeit not as harshly, and tugged my arm to start helping me up. "We've gotta go—!"

"_You two_," a voice behind us growled as we were both lifted by the collars of our shirts—seriously, going to need a new shirt after this—by a furious Mr. Lancer, "are going _nowhere_ but _detention!_"

Tuck and I shared a worried glance as Dash taunted, "_Told_ ya you'd pay for this, _Fenton!_"

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

Lancer paced in front of us, snagging both our files from a cabinet while Dash just leaned against the wall, smirking.

Man, if I weren't worried about Sam, I'd _love_ to punch that smirk off his face…. Oh, wait, he'd _kill me._

Jerk.

"Tucker Foley," Lancer read aloud from the file, "chronic tardiness, talking in class, caught loitering multiple times outside the girls' locker room."

Tuck flashed a sly grin, and I tried not to laugh at the self-proclaimed "lady killer."

Hey, there's nothing wrong with optimism.

"Daniel Fenton." I winced at the use of my legal name, which I hated. "Thirty-four dropped beakers in the past month, banned for life from handling all fragile school property after that near-fatal chemistry lab accident two weeks ago."

Okay, seriously, if it has the word "nitride" in its name, it should _not_ be in a _school_. Or at least be labeled better. With one of those dangerous chemical symbols on it. Or something.

"Other than that, no serious infractions until today. So, gentlemen," Lancer leaned in, scowling at us, "what do you have to say for yourselves?"

I frowned, tossing a quick glare at Dash, who was _still smirking_. "Dash started it! He threw—"

"Four touchdown passes in our last game and is, therefore, exempt from any punishment." Ah, Lancer. Proving once again that all teachers are _biased jerks._ "As for _you two_," he glared at Tuck and me, "you'll be serving detention today." He turned to dig in his desk for detention slips, yelling out, "_The Missing!_" when he couldn't find them. He glared at us again, then headed out the door. "You two stay put. Dash, watch the door." Both went out, leaving us there to wallow in our detention-induced misery.

Then I noticed the security footage. "Dude, look!"

Tuck followed my pointing finger to the screen which showed a slimy trail across the floor. He frowned, and I grinned, thinking he'd caught on. "Since when do we have a basement?"

Head, meet desk. "_Not that!_" I hissed, pointing more vehemently. "Look, meat trail! I bet you _anything_ that's where the ghost took Sam!"

Tuck smirked. "Anything?"

I scowled. "Tucker, _focus!_"

"Right, right, saving Sam. Y'know, somehow, I feel like it's _my_ fault she's in this mess." He chuckled. "Is that crazy or what?"

"Um, dude, it _is_ your fault. You're the one who told the ghost she changed the menu!"

Tuck blinked at me. "...Oh. Damn. We should get her back, then."

"Ya _think?_"

"Alright, so how, exactly, do we _get_ to the basement?"

I changed back, willing the cold to wash over me before grabbing Tuck's arm and pulling him through the floor.

We arrived in the basement, which was, strangely enough, completely packed with boxes upon boxes of meat. Something is _wrong_ with our school….

Tuck ran over and hugged one of the boxes. "I have died and gone to carnivore _heaven!_"

"Okay, seriously, how is it that _I'm_ the one with the ghost powers but _you're_ the weird kid?"

"Hey!"

I ignored Tucker as I heard a yell coming from further in the basement. "C'mon." I led the way down the long hall to see Sam, screaming in rage, in a huge pile of meat. The Lunch Lady ghost was trying to convince her to eat some of it.

"My dear, meat is _good_ for you! It helps you grow and makes you smile!" She frowned. "Why won't you eat it?"

It might have to do with that smiling thing.

"We don't _need_ meat," Sam answered, nose upturned. "That's fact. I can replace the protein with tofu or other, healthier options."

"_SILENCE!_" the ghost yelled. "You need to learn _respect!_ Do you know where that comes from? _MEAT!_"

Tuck and I shared a look, and I spun a finger beside my ear in the classic cuckoo sign.

The ghost smiled brightly at Sam, her aura fading a bit again. Seriously, this lady's bipolar or _something_. "Chicken or fish?"

I shook my head, turning to Tuck. "Look, you get Sam outta there, I'll take out the ghost."

He pulled a knife and fork out of nowhere. "I'm on it!"

"No, dude, something that'll—" He ran off. "—actually get her out _quick_…. Okay, my turn." I flew at the ghost, slamming a fist into her face to send her flying into a wall on the other side of the room. As she was recovering, I spun around to give her a roundhouse kick, but she grabbed my ankle, lifting me as she floated back up.

"You could use some meat, too. You're nothing but skin and bones!" She flung me at one of the walls of boxes, and I just barely managed to go intangible in time. Unfortunately, my momentum took me halfway through a wall, as well. I pulled myself back out, turning to see a ton of shish kebabs coming at me. My eyes went wide, and I squeezed them shut, covering my head and wincing—but nothing happened. I looked down to see that my torso had stretched and curved around each.

I blinked. Apparently, I was totally going to ace our yoga section in gym class next month. I pulled myself back together again as the ghost screeched.

Her aura had stretched away again, going into each of the boxes and pulling out all the meat in the room. The meat swirled around, forming into a gigantic meat monster thing. Sam and Tucker ran over as the thing grabbed me.

I struggled for a moment, gagging on the raw meat smell, then went flying through the wall (thankfully intangible) when she tossed me. I came out in a small room that only had a set of stairs and a door. I rubbed at my head, feeling my strength fading from the overuse of my ghost powers. I really hope my powers are like muscles and will get used to all this work over time….

I went back through the wall, seeing Sam and Tuck running away from the meat ghost. My eyes narrowed as I rushed towards them, pulling them up and out through the wall and to the ground outside. I dropped them quickly, crash-landing in the dirt, panting.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Gee, Danny, going through walls, fighting off meat, you must be exhausted."

"W—What?" I mumbled, feeling my eyes closing of their own accord. "What would… give you… that idea…?"

My eyes closed and the world went dark.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

When my eyes opened again, it was to see a very worried Sam and Tucker hovering over me. "W—What happened?" I sat up. "How long was I out?"

"You passed out," Tuck said. "We took you home. You've been asleep for _four days!_"

My eyes went wide and I jumped out of bed, tripping on the blankets. "_What?_"

Tucker laughed. "Nah, it's only been a couple hours."

Sam shoved him. "Would you quit it! It's all _your_ fault any of this has been happening!"

Tucker glared back. "Oh yeah? What about _you?_ You just _had_ to be an _individual_ and take the meat away! Well, _I'm_ getting it back!" Tucker stomped out of my room.

Sam went after him. "You wanna change that menu back? You'll have to go through _me!_"

I sighed. They'd get over it soon enough. They always do after their meat vs veggie fights. It's not like it could get worse.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

It got worse.

I walked to school the next day to find two huge protests, each lead by one of my friends. My head fell into my palm before I headed over to them. "You guys made _two_ protests _overnight?_"

Tucker slammed a "Meat is Good" sign into the ground. "Meat eaters, Danny. Our high protein diets give us the energy needed to fight off those veggies quickly."

Sam turned her nose up at that. "Ultra recyclo vegetarians are _always_ ready to protest, and since we don't have to cook our food, we can mobilize that much faster."

I winced. "Okay, seriously, you guys don't think you're being a bit extreme?"

Both glared at me. "We _have_ to be," Tuck said. "Now, you're either _with me_—"

"Or you're _against him!_" Sam finished.

They both leaned in, yelling at me, "_Whose side are you on?_"

I opened my mouth to respond, but the Chills shuddered through me before I could. I stared up at the aura—followed by the ghost itself—that came flying out of the school. That right there was a _huge_ meat monster ghost.

"Um, guys…?"

"_What?_" both shrieked.

I pointed, and they gaped at the ghost coming towards us, collecting meat from Tuck's protest on the way.

Tuck fell to his knees, yelling, "Meat! Why have you forsaken me?"

Sam and I paused a moment to roll our eyes, then I tugged Tucker back to his feet. "Time for you guys to make up."

They grabbed each other in a hug, me in the middle, covering me so I could change as the crowd started screaming and panicking. Once in my ghost mode, I flew after the huge meat monster, dodging it as it grabbed for me, then once more as some of the meat was thrown at me. I grinned as I watched it fly past, then turned back—

To get punched into the sky. I went straight through a plane, shaking my head and going back down, snagging some water with a shouted, "Thanks!" before I tossed the water in my face and headed back to the fight.

I got punched in the face again, but this time I landed harshly on the ground, rubbing at my head. I sat up, glancing up to see the meat monster coming towards me, aura lowered.

"Oh, dear," she said, "are you alright?"

I blinked. "Um, I think so?"

This time I was close enough to get caught in the aura as it flamed up. My breath was knocked out of me, and I could feel my eyes flaring, the green covering up the whites. Then it was gone, and I was back to normal, panting a bit.

Note to self, never _ever_ get near an aura. Ever.

"_Too bad!_" the ghost was yelling. "You being 'alright' isn't part of my balanced diet of _DOOM!_"

Psycho ghost is psycho.

Then, I was surrounded by mini meat monsters. I spun quickly, slashing my heel through all four. I stood again, grinning in victory.

Then they simply merged back together.

My grin fell. "Okay, wasn't expecting that." I started to move into a defensive posture, but the rings spread over me, changing me back to human form. "O—Or that!" The monsters all grabbed at me, flying me up into the air. I screamed, trying to reach for that cold sphere, but it was so small now I couldn't find it.

Two of the meat monsters let go, leaving me dangling in the air, held up by the other two, who held my ankles. I closed my eyes tightly, muttering to myself, "Change back, change back!"

Something hit me in the face. I grabbed it quickly before it could fall to the ground. But before I could see what it was, the grip on my ankles disappeared. I felt myself falling to the ground below, and I clutched whatever was in my hand like it was a parachute.

Wait. Maybe it was!

I glanced down. No, just the ghost catcher thing Dad had made, the Fenton Thermos. Too bad it wasn't working.

Hold on.

I reached for that cold sphere again, and this time I found it, changing back just before I hit the ground, which I went straight through instead, shooting back up past my parents to say, "Thanks for the Thermos!"

I flew over towards the ghost, opening the Thermos and studying it for a moment. Then I closed my eyes and let my own aura wash over it.

Suddenly, I could sense the problem. I reached inside it, touching a couple wires together. "Hey, Lunch Lady!" I yelled, catching her attention. I aimed the Thermos at her. "I'm changing the menu, permanently!" Then I tapped the button, and a bright, blue beam flew out, encompassing her and pulling her aura in until finally, she was tugged in by it as well.

When the light was back inside, I capped the Thermos, landing and changing back as Sam and Tuck came over.

"What happened?" Sam asked. "Where'd the ghost go?"

I showed them the Thermos. "My parents have their moments."

"_Ghost directly ahead."_ A metallic voice came from behind us. We all turned, me hiding the Thermos behind my back. My parents were coming over, jumpsuited and everything, following the device my dad held in his hands. _"You must be some kind of idiot not to notice the ghost directly ahead."_

They glanced at me. I thumbed over my shoulder. "Gee, you _just_ missed him."

Mom and Dad shared a look, then took off in the direction I'd pointed, Dad screaming, "_We've got a runner!_"

Yeah, my parents aren't embarrassing _at all._

Sam turned to look at me again. "So, you really _aren't_ telling them?"

I shrugged. "Maybe some day. But for right now, I think I'm finally understanding why I got these powers." I lifted the Thermos again, studying it and determining to recreate it myself if my parents didn't get around to it. And fixing any extras that they made. "I can _help_ people, seeing as ghosts will just keep escaping the Portal if my parents keep it open like it is." I glanced up at my friends. "I guess I _did_ get them for a reason. I'm able to—"

"Stay for detention."

All three of us winced, turning to see Mr. Lancer and Dash standing behind us. Lancer was tapping his foot, arms crossed. "Um, Mr. Lancer, we—"

He just pointed towards the school. "Cafeteria. _Now._"

We ran.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

So, our detention was to pick up after the garbage—er, recyclable, organic matter—fight. It didn't help the clean up time that the Lunch Lady had blazed through here in ginormous, meat monster form.

We were sweeping everything into a couple Dumpsters with Lancer and Dash supervising. In other words, ordering us around without helping at all.

"Foley, pick up that turfwich!"

"With my _hands?_" Tucker grimaced, pulling his gloves on tighter before picking the food up by a corner. He chucked it quickly into the trash.

"Manson, pick up that ribeye!"

Sam's nose wrinkled, and she looked back at Lancer. "This is cruel and unusual punishment, y'know."

"Do it before I add another week to your detention."

"Aye, aye, sir," she mumbled under her breath, gingerly picking up the meat and tossing it in a bin.

I rolled my eyes at my friends' melodramatics as I swept a large pile of food up and into a Dumpster. Dash was leaning against it, barking orders at my friends until he noticed me. He grabbed some of the food I'd just thrown out and dropped it back onto the clean floor. "Looks like you missed a spot, Fenton," he chuckled, smirking.

I grit my teeth, then got an idea. I walked around the side of the Dumpster, placing my hand on the rim when I was just out of Dash's sight. Then, I let my hand go intangible, letting my aura flow out to cover the Dumpster and subsequently turn _it_ intangible, too, which made all the meat fall out onto Dash.

Whoops.

"_Fenton!_"

I smirked. "Looks like I missed another spot, Dash." I shrugged, turning around. "I'll get back to that one later."

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

A/N: Whew. Twenty pages of story for y'all. And it only took me… a month. Well. Damn. Okay, so this is an idea of what this story'll be like, hope people are interested! Remember to send me requests for what to add or change in this from canon. I'm taking all comments into account on this one. Thanks for reading, y'all!


	2. Parental Bonding

A/N: More of this while I work out the kinks in _Don't Believe the Lie_ so I can start posting that. Yay!

Remember to send any plot points you want to see in particular in this! I'll try to incorporate them.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

Note to self: never _ever_ go down into the lab and ask Dad what he's up to.

Today started out normal enough. I went to school, got bullied, and went home. At home, I decided to head downstairs to fix the new Thermoses my parents had made.

But Dad was in the lab. So, I tried to sneak back up, but he'd already seen me.

"Danny boy!" I hate that nickname. "Come here and see what your ol' dad's doing now!"

I winced, but turned to see my obnoxiously orange, hazmat-suited dad sitting in front of the opened Portal—which made me wince _more_—with a fishing rod in his hand.

Wait.

"Why are you fishing in the Ghost Portal?" I asked.

"Ah, I'm testing out the new Fenton Fisher!" He held up the line, showing off the _glowing?_ wire. "It's a specially designed, high density wire coated in our patented Fenton Ghost Resin!" He tugged it taut twice, grinning widely. "No ghost can break through this puppy!"

"Um, yeah, great, Dad, but I just—" I thumbed over my shoulder at the table of Thermoses, but Dad cut me off.

"See, now all I have to do is toss this into the Portal—" he did so "—and wait!"

I flashed him two thumbs up. "Awesome, Dad, so I'm gonna—"

Dad's eyes went wide. "Hold that thought!" He handed the Fisher to me, yelling quickly, "Nature calls!" before running upstairs.

And of course, as soon as Dad was gone and I had turned to look at the green swirl that had cost me half my life, the Fisher rod bent. "Aw, crap," I moaned as the chills ran through me, stronger than the mediocre ectopuses—ectopi?—that often showed up in that first month, and on par with the Lunch Lady's meat monster form. Without any reeling in, the Fisher tugged the ghost out of the Portal.

"Oh, _crap!_" I gaped at the huge, blue and green dragon that was now taking up half of my parents' lab.

I guess having such a high ceiling in here _was_ a good idea.

Then, there was green fire coming at me.

"_CRAP!_" I barely managed to transform and dodge it by turning into mist. Wait,_ mist?_ When did _that_ start?

More importantly, DODGE THAT CLAW!

That done, I turned back to the dragon. "Okay, what the _hell?_"

"_I WANT TO GO!_" it screeched, the basement rumbling and shaking from the sound. "_I __**HAVE**__ TO GO!_"

One of my eyebrows jumped up. "Um, you'll have to wait in line behind my dad. Not that you'd _fit_ in our bathroom…."

That got me another blast of fire to the face. Yay.

Luckily, intangibility worked on ghost fire. Still, I had to wave the smoke away, hacking on the bit I'd inhaled. "Seriously, we've got a no-smoking-unless-something-blew-up rule in the lab! I'm gonna get grounded if this stuff sticks around!"

"_I WANT BALL!_"

Okay, I think the fire's better than the claws. I dove away, the claws swiping through the air above me. Unfortunately, I misbalanced and fell to the ground, the air getting knocked out of me in the fall. The claws swung again before I could recover, and I winced back as three gouges were cut into my stomach by the dragon. The blood that I expected was green, glowing, and gooey, feeling more like yogurt than blood.

Either way, I was ticked. "Okay, _you_ are going _down!_" I flew straight at the dragon, uppercutting it in the nose. It was thrown back, something detaching from its neck and flying off to the side.

And suddenly, the dragon was a girl. I've heard of frogs turning into princes, but a _dragon_ becoming a _princess?_

Eh, I'm half-ghost, I should be ready to believe anything.

The girl sniffled, brushing her long, blonde braid behind her shoulder as she glanced up at me with her bright, red eyes. Er, red in color, not just from crying.

"I j—just w—wanted t—to g—go to the b—ball," she sobbed, "but m—my horrid mummy wouldn't l—let me!"

And the Portal sucked her back in.

Only in my house would the ghost of Cinderella show up.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

"Wait, _seriously?_"

Apparently, Tuck still thinks life can't get weird. Where has _he_ been for the past two months?

"Yeah, Tuck. Seriously." I had told them about the dragon-girl ghost person thing. Sam seemed to have gotten past the oddity of the fact that Cinderella's ghost stopped by my house last night, but Tuck really fixated on that.

"No, really, dude, a _dragon?_"

"_Yes, _Tuck," Sam and I both stated, highly exasperated. Then, Sam turned to me.

"You said that it clawed you?" she asked, her violet eyes studying me for a reaction.

I blinked. "Um, yeah, why?"

"And… you were bleeding?"

I still wasn't catching on. "Yeah. Why, Sam?"

"How badly?" This time, Tucker asked. He'd caught on quicker than I had, not exactly a norm in our group dynamic.

My brow furrowed. "I don't know, I was a bit more worried about getting rid of the dragon before it _tore down my house._"

"Danny, you were _clawed_ by a _dragon_. Isn't that the slightest bit worrisome to you?" Sam demanded, her own brow furrowing but in concern rather than confusion.

"Should it be?"

They both rolled their eyes at me. "When it'd send most people to the hospital, uh, _yeah_, it should!"

For a moment, the three of us just stared at each other. Then, my eyes widened. "Wait, wait, wait, wait, _what?_" My gaze jumped between the two for a moment, my head whipping back and forth. "You mean, I somehow—my powers—I _speed-healed?_"

Sam's fists went to her hips. "Looks that way, doesn't it?" We'd been heading outside for lunch, and Sam stopped us by the door. "Danny, we're still figuring out how the… _accident_ affected you. Maybe you should keep track of stuff like this, things that've changed because of the accident." She shrugged. "It could be helpful, y'know, if ghosts keep popping up around here. At least you'd know what injuries to worry about and what will just heal in a few hours."

I nodded, and we opened up the doors to go out onto the lawn for lunch. Well, Sam and I went out to one of the picnic tables, Tucker waited by the doors, trying to ask out each girl that passed him to the Back to School Dance that was coming up.

The dance was an annual thing, usually happening the first Friday of October, but this year, it got knocked back a week due to the random delays or cancellations of classes that had been going on. Don't tell the teachers, but I'm thinking classes will continue to be delayed or cancelled, seeing as we weren't exactly equipped to deal with the random ghosts that escape the Portal daily. Luckily, they're usually along ectopus level rather than Lunch Lady level, so I can get rid of them pretty quick.

Usually.

Anyway, while we sat down and started to unpack our lunches (Sam refused to eat anything served in our cafeteria since the Ultra-Recyclo Boycott and I refused to eat anything served in there after being attacked by half of it), Tuck hit on every girl who walked by. Within two minutes, he came over and sat by us, exuding a dark aura that normally people would expect from Sam.

Wait. Aura?

I took a second to really _look_ at Tuck. Yep, there was a slight black shine around him that felt like I felt the last time I got a D on a paper. Depression, I suppose, but why could I see it?

I shook my head and turned to him. "Strike three?"

"More like strike three _hundred_," he complained. "Almost three hundred girls in this school, and not a _single one_ agreed to go to the dance with me!"

"Don't worry, Tuck," Sam said, stirring some sort of low-fat, no-sugar-added dressing into her salad, "there's still half a week until the dance, I'm sure _someone_ will go with you. You can't have asked _everyone_."

Tuck pulled out his PDA, calling up the school roster and flicking through it. "No, nope, I've asked every girl in school."

Sam scowled at him, then stabbed at her salad.

Tuck's eyes were drawn off to something coming down the street. "Except _her._"

And then, _every_ guy's eyes were drawn towards the sidewalk as Paulina Sanchez, most popular and prettiest girl in the school, walked up to the building. As she walked, guys literally fell over while watching her. One poor kid even crashed his bike into the fountain.

Tuck and I sighed, resting our chins on our hands so we could continue to watch. "Paulina…."

Sam scoffed, probably rolling her eyes, but we were too busy watching Paulina pick a tree to sit under and pull out her own lunch. "Oh, please. Girls like Paulina are a dime a dozen."

Tuck and I shared a look, then started digging through our pockets. "How much change ya got?" I asked, pulling out a couple pennies and a nickel. Damn. Wonder if you had to buy them a dozen at a time….

"If you guys are _really _so interested, why not you go ask her out?"

Tuck shook his head. "Can't. If I got shot down by the band geeks, there's no _way_ I'm anywhere _near_ her league."

Both turned to me, and I gulped. "I—I can't. I get all weak-kneed when I talk to cute girls."

As soon as it left my mouth, I _knew_ that was the exact _wrong_ thing to say.

Sam's scowl returned, about twenty times worse. "Oh, and you have absolutely _no_ problem talking to _me?_"

"Uh, I—"

"Save it." She stood, dragging me up and shoving me towards Paulina. "Go give your 'weak knees' some exercise."

I winced, knowing I'd have to do some _major_ apologizing for that later, but continued towards Paulina. As I got over by the tree she was sitting under, I put one hand on the side of the tree, leaning against it. I opened my mouth to introduce myself, but my powers decided this would be the _perfect_ time to turn my arm intangible. I smashed into the tree, then fell to the ground, wincing as the fall aggravated the claw marks from last night.

Even worse, Paulina had noticed me. Cold blue eyes glanced down at me as she flipped her long, black hair behind her shoulder. "_Please_ don't say you've suddenly 'fallen' for me," she said, her voice thick with a Spanish accent, "that line is _so_ last semester."

By then, I'd pushed myself back up to a standing position. "Um, n—no, I wasn't, and I'm sorry other guys did." I shook my head to clear it. "I, uh, was actually wondering, um, if—if you'd like to go to the—the B—Back to School Dance with, um, with me?"

She glanced up at me, an eyebrow raised. "And _you_ are?"

I inwardly winced. Of course the most popular girl in school had no clue who the hell I was. "Um, I'm Danny. Danny Fenton."

And my powers sabotaged me _again_. This time, they turned my pants intangible, causing them to fall around my ankles, showing off my boxers to the whole school. My face turned bright red as everyone laughed.

Including Paulina. "Well," she said, still chuckling, "a gentleman usually tips his hat, but I'll give you points for originality."

I winced outwardly at that, tugging my pants back up. But then Sam was standing beside me, resting a hand on my shoulder and glaring at Paulina. "Kudos, Danny," she said, her glare intensifying, "you just set an all-time speed record for drowning in the _shallow end_ of the _gene pool_."

And now Paulina jumped up to glare at Sam on level ground. "_Oh_, no," the Latina exclaimed, "you did _not_ just call _me_ shallow!"

Sam's hands went to her hips. "If by 'shallow,' you mean 'do I think I can stand in a puddle full of you and _not_ get my feet wet,' then, yeah, I called you shallow. Whatcha gonna do about it?"

My eyes went wide as both of theirs narrowed. Oh, crap. I do _not_ want to be in the middle of this impending fight. Before Paulina could do or say anything, I tugged Sam away, calling back, "Bell about to ring, sorry, gotta go, bye!"

Once we were back inside (after dragging Tucker in behind us), I sighed. "Okay, _never_ doing that again." Then I turned to Sam. "And can we _please_ not start fights at school? You don't need to get suspended _again_."

Sam's nose tipped up as she huffed. "That little witch deserves to get knocked down a few pegs." Then she scowled. "Besides, being suspended for a week was _totally_ worth it. Do you even _know_ what the school was going to do with those poor mice?"

Tuck and I rolled our eyes, but at that point, the bell actually _did_ ring, and we all split up for class.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

I spent all of last period being glared at by Dash Baxter. First off, he still didn't forgive me for the whole trapping him in a ton of meat thing, and secondly, we got our first math quizzes back, and, needless to say, math is not his best subject. Hell, _school_ isn't his best subject.

In any case, Dash wanted to pummel me as soon as possible, and I had the choice whether or not to let him. So, naturally, I hightailed it out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang. I was at my locker and quickly trading out my books for my homework when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

I jumped and spun, terrified that Dash had caught up to me, but relaxed when I saw that it was Paulina who'd wanted my attention. "O—Oh!" I gasped. "Um, h—hey, Paulina."

"Hi, Danny," she replied, batting her eyelashes at me. "I was wondering—"

Then I was getting shoved into my locker. Of course Dash would catch up at the worst possible moment. But once I was surrounded by nothing but darkness, I let my eyes flash green as I actually _called_ on my powers to turn my whole body intangible.

I had just gone out of my locker, invisible and intangible still, when Dash was saying, "Hey, hot stuff, I don't think we've met." I snuck up behind him, getting ready to push _him_ into the locker instead. "I'm Dash Baxter, and I'm—" I chose that moment to attack.

But instead of the rewarding feeling of putting Dash into a locker, I felt myself get sucked _inside_ of his body.

"What the—?"

One of Paulina's eyebrows jumped up. "Excuse me?"

I blinked, then realized I was seeing everything from about five inches above my normal line of sight. I took a moment to mentally take stock, able to feel my own body, but also Dash's, as though I was inside a mascot suit. His hands moved with mine, as did his feet and head, yet I could still feel his thoughts, hazy and unfocused as though he were dreaming or asleep.

Weird.

"Um, _hello?_" Paulina was trying to get my—Dash's—attention, so I glanced back at her.

"Sorry. Yeah, I'm—" A thought came to my mind, that I could make Dash out to be a weirdo so she'd not bother with him. I smirked, and luckily I think I kept it to just myself as opposed to showing it on Dash's face. "I'm president of the glee club, I collect toenails, and in my free time, I scrub my mom's feet." I bent onto a knee and grabbed at Paulina's feet. "I'll scrub yours, too, I _love_ scrubbing feet!"

As expected, Paulina's face scrunched up into a look of disgust. "_Ew_, let go, you freak!" She pulled her foot loose, and I took that as my cue to exit Dash's body and go back into my locker again.

From outside, I could hear Dash saying, "Ughhh, what happened? And why do I wanna scrub my mom's feet?" before he took off.

Sweet, I can plant ideas subliminally.

Then, I was falling out of my locker and onto the floor. My bookbag fell to one side, something small and golden tumbling out. I glanced up at Paulina, who helped me stand. "Th—Thanks."

She smiled at me. _Paulina_ smiled at _me!_ "You're welcome, Danny." Then, she saw the thing that had fallen from my bag and gasped. "Ooooh! What's this?" She picked it up, and I saw it was a necklace.

It was gold, with a strange green gem that had a dark green, almost black, stripe down the middle like a cat's eye. It was on a thin gold chain that looked delicate but managed to hold the heavy pendant.

Oh, wait, she'd asked me something. "Uh, that's—that's for you," I stammered. "Yeah, I—I got it for you if you wanted to go to the dance with me, because I thought I might wanna give you something if you said yes, and that's—um, that's what I wanna give you, if—if you wanna go with me."

Luckily, something stopped me from continuing with my stuttering explanation. That something was Paulina's lips on my cheek. I blushed brightly as she grinned at me.

"Of _course_ I'll go with you, Danny!" she said, clasping the necklace around her neck. "Pick me up at seven, okay?" Then she waved and walked away.

I stared after her for a moment, then a grin slowly spread across my face. "...She said yes? She said yes! _Yes!_" I threw both my arms into the air happily.

And my pants fell. Again. _Without_ paranormal sabotage.

And of course Lancer was coming by at that moment.

"Pantless again, Mr. Fenton?" he asked rhetorically. He shook his head. "That's the third time this week you've been caught, how do you kids say it," he opened a book titled _How to Speak Hip for the Unhip_, "'dropping trou.'" He put the book away, glaring at me again. "I think it's high time I saw your father for a parent-teacher conference."

I winced. "Aw, man, my _dad?_"

"Yes." He grinned, holding out a belt. "In the meantime, this will keep your pants up and," once again he consulted his book, "out of trouble with 'the man.'"

He handed me the belt and a yellow slip of paper, then left.

I stared down at the paper and sighed. "Let's hope Dad caught something today or he's gonna be even _more_ ticked at this note…."

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

"H—Hey, Dad," I stammered as I headed downstairs. I've never been more glad that my parents are selectively oblivious in my life. "Uh, catch anything?"

"Son, I couldn't catch a cold!" He was resting his chin on his hand, glaring into the Portal. "I've been sitting here all day and haven't gotten a single bite!"

I glanced down at the note. Now I _really_ don't want to tell him…. "Um…."

"I'm so frustrated, I want to take my rage out on the next person who gives me bad news!"

Great.

He turned to me, smiling. "Anyway, you wanted to say something?"

Crap.

"Um, sorta. M—Mr. Lancer—"

"Mr. Lancer what?" His eyes narrowed at me. "Is this bad news?"

I quickly hid the note behind my back, smiling nervously at him. "Um, Mr. Lancer…."

Then, I had an idea. Dad could go to the meeting without even knowing he'd been.

I dove into my dad's body, making his eyes glow green as I smirked. "Mr. Lancer wants to have a word with us!"

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

I flew my dad—us?—to the school for the meeting. We sat in Lancer's office, across from the substi-vice-princi-teacher, who greeted us warmly. "Hello, Mr. Fenton."

"Hi, Mr. Lancer," I had Dad say, "What is this meeting about, may I ask?" Yes, be polite, that's the only way to get out of this in one piece.

"Well, there've been a few incidents with Danny… involving his pants."

Okay, time to do damage control. "Did his pants fall down again? Oh, poor Danny! He studies so hard, he forgets to eat! I know this because I'm his father, and not him."

GAH, I _need_ to learn to shut up while I'm ahead!

Lancer gave me a confused look, but continued. "In any case, something needs to be done so this doesn't happen again."

"Of course, Mr. Lancer." Time to lay it on thick and pray it works. "After all, you don't need _more_ work than you already have. See, we Fentons believe that teachers are underpaid and under appreciated!"

Lancer grinned brightly. "I like your style, Mr. Fenton. In fact, I'd like you to chaperone the upcoming school dance."

Yes! Home fre—

Wait. _WHAT?_

"Ch—Chaperone? Well, I'm not sure—"

"I am." He grinned again, standing up and holding out a hand for me—Dad—to shake. I had Dad stand as well. "See you Friday," he said, "or, as the kids say," and out came that book again, "'catch you later, G!'"

I wanted to do one of those anime sweat drops, but at least I'd survived the parent-teacher conference.

Now to survive the dance.

With my _parents_ as chaperones.

I'm screwed.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

"And that's what happened at the meeting yesterday."

I'd just finished explaining that fiasco to Sam and Tuck after school the next day. We'd chosen to hang out at the Amity Park Mall since Tuck was still trying to get a date for the dance. He'd come to sit with Sam and I after striking out _again_.

"So your parents are chaperoning, who cares?" Tuck said, laying his chin on top of his folded arms. "At least _you_ have a date." Then, he perked up, glancing at me. "Hey, think you could do that possessing thing to get me a—?"

"Forget it, Tuck. You can get your _own_ date, like I did." I dug into the burger I'd bought.

Sam rolled her eyes, mumbling to Tuck, "Does he have to take off his pants _and_ act like a dweeb, or will either one do?"

I scowled at her. "Hey!"

Sam shook her head at me, then swirled her salad. "Seriously, guys, I'm _glad_ I'm not going to the dance. Saves me the embarrassment of wearing the stupid dress my parents tried to force on me."

Tucker smirked at her. "So, no one asked you, huh?"

Sam scowled back. "Well, maybe if I was as pretty as _Paulina_…."

I frowned, still confused about that. "Why are you so down on her, anyway?" I shrugged. "So she's pretty, that's not a crime."

She pursed her lips. "Looks can be deceiving, Danny."

But then, the chills hit me. I shuddered, rubbing at my arms, as I spun to stare at the Abyss store, where a dragon had just burst out of the door.

"Ghost time," Tuck stated unnecessarily. Then he pulled my tray towards him. "Can I have your fries?"

I rolled my eyes but transformed under the table. With that done, I flew over to where the dragon was shrieking.

"Gee, haven't we met before?" I dove away, barely dodging the fire it breathed at me. "Okay, let's try this again. Hi, I'm Danny Phantom, and _you_ are?"

The stupid claws missed, but then the stupid tail swung around, knocking me into another store. I winced, rubbing at my sore head. "Testy, got it."

I flew back into the air just as a wave of green fire struck the spot I'd been. I threw my shoulder into the dragon, but it grabbed me and slammed me to the floor, pinning me with one of its claws.

"_MUST HAVE TEE!_" it yelled in my face.

I blinked at that. "Tee? Oooh, good idea. Coffee can make you a might jittery. Better yet," I sunk through the floor, waited a moment, then zoomed back out, "how about some _punch!_"

I threw my fist into the dragon's face. I tried to follow where the dragon had fallen, but it was suddenly just _gone_. I flew down to the floor, changing back as I landed. Sam and Tuck ran over.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, checking for any obvious new claw marks or burns.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I answered, then I frowned, "but that's the second time I've fought that dragon. We need to investigate." I glanced back at them. "What about you guys?"

"Fine," Tuck said, "unless you count the fact that I'm _still_ dateless." He pulled out his PDA, listing off a few names that had failed him. "I've hit almost every girl in school, except…." He glanced at a girl who was heading our way. "Valerie."

Valerie Grey was a few social rungs below Paulina. Not queen bee status, but pretty damn close. She wore an orange headband to keep her curly black hair out of her green eyes, along with a yellow shirt and orange skirt.

She walked straight up to Tucker, who was trying to look as date-able as he could. "Yeah, Sucker, was it?"

"Uh, Tucker," he said. "Or Tuck. Or Tuckerino."

"No one calls you that," Sam and I both said.

Valerie ignored us. "Which ends in 'no,' which just so happens to be my answer unless something happens in the next two minutes that makes me dateless."

Wow, her timing is _horrible_. At that moment, Dash Baxter's best friend _ever_, Kwan Joeng, came running over. "Hey, Valerie!" he exclaimed. "You'll never guess what happened!"

Oh, yeah, this can only be bad for Valerie.

"Donna said she'd go to the dance with me, so you're totally dateless! Bye!"

And he ran off, leaving Valerie to sigh and turn back to Tucker. "Pick me up at seven thirty." She left.

"Yes!" Tucker pumped a fist into the air, looking at us. "Some might call it the rebound, but I call it a yes! I got a date!" He smirked at me, pointing down. "And the pants are still on!"

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

When I got home after that, it was to see my parents fussing over the whole chaperone thing. Dad in particular seemed to be highly against it, mostly because he didn't want to dress up.

Jazz was thrilled though. "This is the _perfect_ thing to get you guys away from your sick obsession with ghosts!"

"I don't even remember _volunteering_ to go to this dance!" Dad exclaimed. "It's all a vague blur…."

Jazz pulled me off into the hallway, letting Mom continue to wrestle Dad into a tie. "By the way, Danny, just so you know," she crossed her arms, grinning slyly down at me, "I'm onto your little _secret_."

My eyes went wide, and I nearly dropped the glass of water I was holding. "_What?_"

She ticked things off on her fingers. "The clumsiness, the nervousness, I can't _believe_ I didn't see it before!" She smiled. "You have a girlfriend!"

"It'salieI'mnota—" I blinked. "Wait, what?"

"You. Have a. Girlfriend," Jazz said, enunciating each word and smirking.

I shook my head. "She's not my girlfriend."

Jazz smiled. "I know, she's your _best_ friend."

My brow furrowed. "What?" I shook my head again. "No, I'm taking _Paulina _to the dance."

Dad screamed something about ghosts from the kitchen.

Jazz glanced back at me. "You'd better tell her your family is insane now, Danny. If you marry her and she finds out later, that's entrapment."

"Ha, ha, Jazz, very funny." I rolled my eyes. Then, I sighed. "I'd better go get ready…."

I shuffled past Jazz, heading upstairs. Okay, I have to find the ghost, get rid of it, _and_ keep my parents from doing anything _too_ embarrassing. ...I can handle that.

I hope.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

I straightened my tie as Tuck and I chatted with Sam over my webcam. "Alright, shirt's tucked in, pants are up and belted on," I grabbed the Fenton Fisher, pressing the button to turn the Fisher into its compressed form, "unbreakable ghost fishing line tucked neatly away just in case…." I slid the tiny fishing rod into my jacket pocket. Then, I looked at the computer, where Sam was supposed to be finding out about the ghost dragon. "How's it going on the research, Sam?"

"Hang on, I'm sending it to you now," she said. A moment later, a webpage popped up on my screen. "There."

I glanced at the site. The home page showed an image of the dragon I'd fought twice now. "That's it!" I clicked on a link to more info. "Okay, it says 'The first Amulet of Aragon was given to a princess in the Middle Ages. It transforms the wearer into a dragon under states of emotional duress or anger.'" I looked closer at the amulet the dragon wore, seeing a golden chain with a gold and green cat's eye pendant. "Oh, no, that's the pendant I gave Paulina!" I blinked. "Wait. You mean, I'm going on a date _with a dragon?_"

Sam was practically _glowing_ as she smirked. "Like I said, looks can be deceiving. I'm sure you boys will have a _wonderful_ evening." She signed off.

I turned back to Tucker. "She really wants to go to the dance," I realized.

Tuck gaped. "B—But she said she didn't want to!"

I glared at him. "We're her _best friends_. We should have known."

"Well," Tuck said, shrugging, "there's nothing we can do about it now, right?"

Yeah…. Unless someone randomly decides to ask her.

...Which I can make someone do.

My eyes glowed green as I smirked at Tucker.

His eyes went wide. "No. No! No way. Forget it. _Absolutely not._"

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

I had Tuck knock on Sam's door. When she opened it, she gaped. "Tucker? I thought you were going to the dance with Valerie."

"She cancelled on me last minute. So I thought, why not we go together? Like, as friends?" I made Tucker smile at her.

"Gee, I dunno," she said, "it's so last minute, and you know I'm against school-sanctioned events…."

"Oh." I really thought she'd wanted to go…. "Okay, if you don't want—"

"But if you really want to, I guess I can. Wait a sec and let me go change into that stupid dress my parents got me!" She slammed the door, and I vacated Tuck.

"Have fun at the dance, bye!"

I flew off before he could yell at me.

I had a dragon-slash-date to pick up.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

When I landed outside Paulina's house, I drew in a deep breath. Okay, have to figure out a way to get that necklace back. _Without_ ticking off the potential dragon.

"Paulina," I said, testing out an idea, "about that amulet. It's a family heirloom, and I really need to get it back." I sighed. "No, that's stupid…."

Then, the door opened, and the biggest man that I'd _ever_ seen (not including my dad) was standing in the door.

I grinned nervously. "Um, hi! You must be Paulina's dad."

And there's a finger in my face. "If you upset her, we are going to have a _very_ violent talk."

Then Paulina came out in this gorgeous pink dress. "Papa! You're scaring him!" She grabbed my arm and started tugging me towards the way to school. "Come on, Danny, we're going to be late!"

Mr. Sanchez smiled brightly at his daughter. "Have a wonderful night, baby!" Then he glared back at me. "I know where you live."

"A—And I'm glad we had this talk!"

And I let Paulina drag me far, far away from her psycho, over-protective dad.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

We only danced for a few minutes before Paulina stated she'd get too sweaty if she kept dancing. I grabbed us both some punch and sat down with her at one of the tables. "Look, um, Paulina, I, uh, I found out that that amulet I gave you—"

She smiled brightly, reaching a hand up to touch the necklace she still wore. "Oh, I _love_ it, Danny! It's _so_ gorgeous!"

I shot back with a nervous grin. "Um, yeah, but I—um, I found out that it was actually, um—" I glanced around and saw Sam and Tucker across the room— "Sam's! It's, um, Sam's. She left it at my house the other day, and I didn't realize until now that—"

Paulina's glass broke. And Lancer was heading over to my dad.

Crap.

"Um, I'll go get you another drink, be right back!"

I ran off over to my dad, turning invisible along the way and possessing my dad. Which was good, because apparently, he'd been asked about the conference. Which he didn't remember.

At all.

And of course Mom was curious why Dad didn't seem to remember. "What conference, Jack?"

Luckily, I could hijack Dad's answer. "Oh, Mr. Lancer and I just had a small talk about Danny. Don't worry, I spoke with Danny about it already, Mo—Maddie." I saw Sam and Tuck across the room, and quickly yelped, "I'll go get us some drinks!"

I didn't even bother to vacate Dad before I rushed over to my best friends.

Tucker gaped, and Sam's eyes widened, but both quickly masked their surprise. "Um, hi, Mr. Fenton," Sam said, always the fast talker, "what's up?"

I made my (dad's) eyes glow green. "It's _me_, guys." I slipped each of them a walkie talkie, knowing it'd be quicker than texting on our cell phones. "I need you guys to do something."

Tuck nodded. "Shoot, Mr. F." He chuckled at calling me that.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Tuck, run interference between my parents and Mr. Lancer. Sam, I need you to keep an eye on Paulina."

Sam smirked. "Oh, this dance just got _fun._" She took off after Paulina.

That done, I headed over to the punch table and finally jumped out of my dad. I grabbed the third walkie talkie from his hand and started looking around for my date (who hopefully was not currently a dragon).

Of course, no sooner had I thought that very hopeful thought than I heard the all-too-familiar roar of the ghost dragon. "Aw, crap." I snuck down the hall to where the sound came from and found myself outside the girls' bathroom. My face turned bright red, but I swallowed my pride and stepped into the _very_ pink bathroom to stare up at a dragon that held someone in its hand.

Then of course, the dragon took off through the roof, and I had to transform to follow it. We flew out into the football stadium, and I floated in front of the ghost dragon. "Okay, Paulina, take it easy. You don't wanna hurt—" Then I noticed that Paulina was the someone in the dragon's hand. "Paulina?" I glanced up at the dragon. "_Sam?_"

"_SHALLOW GIRL!_" the dragon shrieked.

"Yep, that's Sam." Then came the fire. I spun around it, barely missing the wave of green. Once I had avoided that, I dove in to throw a punch. "Sorry, Sam, but this is gonna hurt!"

She flew into one of the stands, crashing through it, but she recovered quick and rushed back at me, using her claws to swipe me into and through another stand. Luckily, I went intangible and managed to avoid the stands.

I did _not_ avoid the fence behind the stands. I crashed into the chain link fence, sliding down it but luckily not changing back like I would've a week or two ago. I guess I _am_ getting better at this.

Then I saw the two people who were gaping at me. "Um," I stammered, glancing between Dash and his date, "stay in school!" And I flew off through the stands again to finish the fight with Sam.

Just as the walkie talkie crackled to life. "_What?_" I barked into it.

"_Danny, your dad's heading over to Lancer. It doesn't look good, you'd better get back here, now!"_

"Oh, well _great!_ I'll be there as soon as I get rid of the _giant fire-breathing ghost dragon!_"

"_Okay, just wanted you to know."_

And the walkie talkie crackled to death.

"Perfect." Time to finish this up.

Sam roared back towards me, blowing more fire in my face. I ducked, but sadly, the top of my hair got caught in the blast. I patted the fire out of my hair, then dove at Sam, grabbing her by the tail and swinging her around several times before tossing her off into the distance behind the school.

Once she'd disappeared, I brushed off my hands, smiling brightly. Then the smile fell as I remembered the warning from Tuck. "Aw, man, _Dad!_"

A quick flight into the school, and I was dropping into Dad just as he was trying to beat off the guy "hitting on" Mom.

In other words, he didn't recognize Lancer _at all._

Mom stared at Dad after he yelled at Lancer. "Honey, what are you talking about? This is Mr. Lancer. You know, from the _parent-teacher conference_."

And I've never been more glad to have possessed my father before Mom spoke. "Oh, yes, but in this light I didn't recognize him. Doesn't he look like George Clooney, Mo—Maddie?" The song that was playing changed, and I made my dad drag Mom onto the dance floor. "Oh, I love this song!"

And I left Dad as soon as Mom began dancing. I am _not_ getting in the middle of that.

So I took off through the roof once more, just in time, too, as Sam had just flown back as well. I sped up enough to hit her with a roundhouse kick before she'd readied herself for the fight. Unfortunately, she managed to get off a burst of flame as she was knocked back, but I dodged it, yelling at her, "You throw fire like a girl!"

Her aura flared. I hadn't noticed it flaring before (unlike with the Lunch Lady), but now I realized the dragon had a fainter aura around itself but a stronger aura around the amulet. Huh.

She lunged at me, but I flicked open the Fenton Fisher. "Ghost-proof fishing line. Unbreakable to ghosts _and_ dragon ghosts!" I cast the line, then flew quickly around the dragon, wrapping it in the fishing line. "Way to go, Dad!"

With the dragon tied up, I flew us both to the ground before taking the amulet off Sam. She slowly shrunk back down to her normal size, rubbing at her head and somehow _not_ messing up the fancy, spider-like hairdo she'd done for the dance. She sat up, trying to get her feet back under her.

I stretched out a hand. "Here, let me help."

She grabbed my hand in a gloved one of her own, and I lifted her up. Once she was standing, I took a look at her dress.

It had a black bodice with fishnet sleeves that tucked into aforementioned black, fingerless gloves. The skirt was a stream-lined violet that was a couple shades lighter than her eyes and shimmered in the light.

"Wow," I gasped. I glanced back up to meet her eyes. "For a dress your parents picked out, it's really… _you_."

She blushed lightly. "Thanks. I actually did some adjustments to the dress to make it more me, but I'm glad it worked."

"It really did." Great, now _I_ was blushing, too. I rubbed the back of my neck. "Um, so, w—we should probably head back in, right?"

Her blush was starting to fade. "Right."

We started in, walking side by side. I was staring down at the amulet I still held in one hand as I transformed back to human mode. "I guess I need to figure out what to do with this."

Sam looked down at it. "Well, why not just toss it back into the Ghost Zone?"

I shrugged. "Doesn't seem right, y'know? I'll just hang onto it to give it back to the girl who had it." I tucked the necklace into a pocket.

"That's really sweet, Danny."

We walked in silence for a few moments, then I glanced over at her. "I'm sorry about the other day, Sam. You know I didn't mean to say you weren't—um, I think you're—It's more that I've known you since before I was interested in girls, so I guess you're the only cute girl I'm able to talk to easily."

She smiled slightly at me. "Thanks, Danny. And I'm sorry I was so unsupportive of you going with Paulina tonight. You deserve to have a good time tonight. Or, well, y'know, if there hadn't been a ghost dragon involved."

We both chuckled as we went back into the dance, just as the last song came on. I turned to Sam. "So, since both our dates didn't exactly pan out—" I motioned over at where Dash was hitting on Paulina— "would you like to dance?" I held out a hand to her again.

She took it, then paused, staring at me with an eyebrow up. "Promise me you'll keep your pants up?"

I chuckled. "I'll do my best!"

As we danced, I could hear Tucker complaining. "Wait a second. I'm dateless _again?_ What's a guy gotta do to get hooked up around here?"

The chill this time was very slight, so I didn't even shiver as the ghost girl from earlier popped up next to Tucker. "I want to go to the ball!" she shrieked.

I could _hear_ Tuck's eyes go wide. "Um, on second thought, I do _not_ need a date _that_ badly." He ran over towards us, yelling, "Hey, guys, wait up! Lemme cut in!"

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

We all thought that that would be the end of things with the dragon ghost, and, frankly, it was. But we had a huge shock when we saw the headlines the next day.

_**Ghost Boy Saves Dance from Dragon!**_

Sam turned to me as we all read over the paper. "Someone saw you?"

I nodded grimly. "Dash and his date. Er, first date. Y'know, before he picked up Paulina."

Sam bit her lip. "Looks like you won't be able to fly under the radar with this, Danny. What're we gonna do?"

I glanced down at the headline. No picture was attached to the story, and the description was vague enough that it didn't really even sound like me, human _or_ ghost. I folded up the paper with a shrug. "For now, nothing. All they've got is a story, and even _that_ will just die out in a few days. I'll just have to avoid being seen from now on, and how hard could that be?"

Famous last words.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

A/N: Okay. About the same length in half the time! Yay! See what happens when I've got no schoolwork and am bored out of my mind at home?

Anyway, read and review, and remember to send in requests for changes you'd like to see!


	3. One of a Kind

A/N: Something about this summer is completely draining me of my writing ability. I blame it on disappointing results in my job hunt.

Anyways, more story for you! Still haven't really started screwing with the canon timeline, but that will change (slightly) in two chapters! Look forward to that.

Also, I'm a nerd. While trying to pick birthdays for everyone in this story, I looked up a couple sites on what your birthday says about you. Just according to the days of the month, Danny's is _perfect_, Tucker's is pretty close, as are Sam's and Jazz's. And I now have a calendar set up for this story….

Also also, I forgot how _weird_ Skulker's original voice was. Definitely like his later voice better.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

Amity Park is commonly advertised as "A Nice Place to Live." Generally, it is. We've got an awesome park with this awesome tree that pretty much _every_ kid in town has fallen from (climbing it seems to be a childhood initiation), and our crime rate is one of the lowest in the nation.

But whoever created that ad has _never_ been to the Docks. It's like something straight out of Gotham, I swear. They're dingy, and creepy, and half the lights don't even work!

Oh, yeah, and now they're full of mobster ghosts.

Yeah, you read that right. Mobsters. Not like part of a mob, part of _the_ Mob. _Freaking mafia ghosts._

And one obsessed with boxes.

No, he seriously introduced himself as _the Box Ghost_. And he's oddly fond of shouting "BEWARE!"

...Eh, I had to run across _one_ generic, scare-loving ghost. Not that _he_ could actually scare anyone, but the guy's honestly trying.

"I AM THE BOX GHOST!" the dude screamed at us after we'd caught the last mobster. Those guys were really a lot simpler to catch than you'd think, what with them being _the mafia_ and all. "YOU CANNOT _HOPE_ TO CONFINE ME WITHIN YOUR CYLINDRICAL CONTAINER!"

The three of us did a simultaneous blink. For a guy who dressed like a plumber, yells beware a lot, and is obsessed with boxes, he certainly had a highly developed vocabulary.

Who cares, he's going in the Thermos.

"Yeah, well, contain _this!_" I yelled as I threw my fist into his face. The uppercut knocked him through a wall, which allowed me to fly down to Tucker and Sam, the former of whom held the Fenton Thermos, and the latter of whom held a huge science textbook. "Guys, when he gets back in here, I need you to catch him, okay?"

"Um, Danny—"

I ignored Sam, focusing on Tuck. "Please let's just do this quick so we can get back to study—"

And then the Box Ghost was yelling right behind me again. "THIS SHALL NOT BE QUICK, FOR YOU SHALL BE CRUSHED UNDER THE POSSESSIONS OF—" he paused to check the box that was floating beside him, glowing the same light blue as his hands "—ELLIOT KRAVITZ OF ARLINGTON HEIGHTS, ILLINOIS!"

He threw his hands forward, still glowing, which, again, Tuck and Sam didn't seem to see. This weird aura thing was really throwing me off. I never knew whether they could see what I did, but it's not like I could just _ask_ them if they saw the—

HOLY CRAP, GLOWING BLUE THINGS COMING AT MY HEAD!

...Oh, right, I can go intangible. Good. Great. Lovely. I should do that, like, now.

Luckily, I changed just in time. "Tuck!"

"On it!" he responded, jabbing at the button to operate the Thermos. The Box Ghost got sucked inside with a last screech of "BEWARE!"

Hope he likes the mob.

Tuck grinned like a loon, saying, "Perimeter secure."

One of Sam's eyebrows jumped up at that, a hand on her hip while still managing the large biology tome. "'Perimeter secure?' What are you, a Navy Seal?"

I landed next to her, confidently stating, "Seals! Aquatic mammals that bark! They're, er—" Crap, confidence gone. "—Canines?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "Uh, no. You're oh for twenty-one."

Tuck smirked at me. "I'm no teacher, but I'm guessing that's an F."

I scowled back at him. "C'mon, guys! You're supposed to be helping me study, and helping me catch ghosts so I have _time_ to study!"

Tucker patted the Thermos. "And I've got 'em all right here."

BEEP BEEP!

Sam and I both rolled our eyes as Tuck eagerly dug in his pockets for the PDA currently announcing it wanted his attention.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, tugging the device out and kissing it. "According to Wanda, here, my schedule is calling!"

"Wanda," I deadpanned to Sam, "seriously?"

She shrugged. "Be glad it's not the one he named after your mom."

We both shuddered at the image of Tucker cuddling the device he'd named Maddie.

Then, I shuddered for a completely different reason as a loud _WHOOSH_ echoed through the warehouse we were in and _all the fricking ghosts we'd just caught flew out the now-open Thermos_.

"TUCKER!" Sam and I shrieked.

He glanced up at us, then at the ghosts (the Box Ghost yelled something about knowing the cylindrical container could never capture him) before checking his PDA again. "Huh, according to this, we should be done catching ghosts by now."

And Sam was the only thing that kept me from strangling my best friend.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

When I came down for breakfast the next morning, it was to Jazz flipping out.

"They said yes! They said _yes!_"

I rolled my eyes, then smirked at her. "Who said yes? The person you asked if you were a know-it-all?"

She scowled at me. "No. _Genius Magazine_ said yes! They're going to do an article on Mom! They got my letter and want to put her on the cover! Isn't this awesome?"

Mom snagged the letter Jazz held. "_Genius Magazine_?"

And then Dad snagged the letter from Mom, grinning widely. "_Genius Magazine_! Is it the swimsuit issue?"

Jazz scowled at him now. "No! _Genius Magazine_ is _for_ women geniuses, _by_ women geniuses, and _about_ women geniuses."

I smirked. "So it _is_ the swimsuit issue!" And Mom's gonna be on the cover.

Wait a minute….

"Oh _gross!_ Mom's gonna be in the swimsuit issue?" And now I can't get that image out of my head. Brain bleach please.

Jazz was steaming now, and I could see a faint red glow around her, like the black one I saw around Tucker before the dance. Huh. "It is _not_ the swimsuit issue!" she yelled at us. Oh, good. Never want Mom on the cover of a swimsuit issue of _anything_. Then, the red died down and turned to more of a faint yellow, and Jazz smiled brightly. "But it _is_ the perfect opportunity to show the world that you guys _aren't_ ghost-hunting crackpots, and that I have normal parents that aren't ghost-hunting freaks!"

Redundant much?

Hey, wait a second. "They're not ghost-hunting freaks!"

And sometime while we were discussing this, Mom had grabbed one of their inventions and started fiddling with it. Dad just chose this moment to take it from her. "Hey, Danny! Speaking of ghost hunting, check out the latest in Fenton Ghost Hunting Technology with which to Hunt, Maim, and/or Incapacitate Ghosts!" Yes, that is technically their patented brand. Also, a mouthful. "It's the Ghost Gabber! It takes the strange noises ghosts make and translate it into words that you and I can understand! _Genius Magazine_'ll love it!"

Words Dad can understand? So, will it work on Jazz so he doesn't have to grab a dictionary and thesaurus after every time they talk?

Wait, translates ghosts? But ghosts speak English, don't they? ...Maybe I should ask Tuck and Sam next time we—

And there's a ghost-hunting device _in my face_. "Uh…."

"Try it!" Dad exclaimed happily.

"Um…." Think of something generic! Generic and ghostly! What the heck's generic and ghostly? Oh, wait, duh. "Boo?"

"_I am a ghost, fear me._"

OH, crap.

My eyes went wide, and I slapped a hand on the Gabber, trying to get it to shut up. "I—I better get to school!" And I rushed for the door as the Gabber made this awful, creepy shrieking sound.

Awesome. Not only does it translate _from_ ghostly, it translates me _to_ ghostly. Yeah, totally gonna be able to keep this a secret from my parents.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

So, we took a biology test. And I honestly can't remember half the questions. The reason this scares me?

_The test was last period._

"I'm so totally _screwed_," I complained (_not_ whined, don't listen to a thing Tucker says) to my friends. "My parents are gonna _kill_ me when I get that test back!"

Sam rolled her eyes. "C'mon, Danny, it won't be _that _bad."

"Sure, you could've done better," Tucker continued, "but it's not like you _failed_ or anything!"

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

Turns out, I did. We got the test results back the next day, and I found myself staring down at a big, fat D.

...Okay, _technically_ not a fail, but still, my parents were gonna _freak_.

"This ghost hunting is _killing_ my study time! And my grades!" I moaned, stuffing the test away in a bag and praying it spontaneously combusted before my parents saw it.

"So much for your family being full of geniuses," Tuck said, shrugging.

Sam and I both slammed an elbow each into his ribs. We entered the computer labs for class, smirking at Tucker's pain.

Revenge is _sweet_.

Sam sat at one of the monitors, Tuck and I sitting on either side of her, then pulled up a webpage and typed something into the search box. "It'll be fine, Danny. You just need to do some extra credit."

I groaned. "Great. _More_ work I have no time for!"

Tuck whipped out yet _another_ of his PDAs. "But _I'll_ keep track of your time management for you!"

I shot him a glare. "Like you took care of the Thermos?"

And there's a screen in my face.

"Look, I already programmed in 'Don't let Tucker handle the Thermos!'"

"Great. Can you program in 'Get New Best Friend' for me?"

Tucker scowled. Sam turned her monitor's screen more towards me.

More screens in my face. Yay.

"Here, Danny," she said, pointing at the webpage she now had up, "all you need to do is do an extra credit assignment on this magnificent creature."

I stared at the image on the screen, seeing a large, white ape type thing (failing bio, remember?) with a stripe of bright purple down its back. I read the caption. "A Purpleback Gorilla?"

Sam grinned one of those grins that made me think she's secretly preppy under all the Goth clothes and makeup. "Yes! They're endangered. Only two left, both male. Once they're gone, the species is gone forever." Then that grin turned into that determined look she got whenever she was about to start a protest.

Please not the meat vs. veggies thing again.

"Which is why _you're_ going to prove he deserves to be set free!"

Oh, good. For a second I was worried that—Wait, _what?_

"_What?_"

The whole room was staring now.

I turned bright red. "Um, that was out loud, wasn't it?"

Sam and Tucker nodded, then glared around at everyone until they turned away. Sam's half turned first. "See, it's gonna be _really_ simple," she declared, continuing as though I hadn't (very loudly) interrupted her. "All you've gotta do is write a report on why Samson here deserves to live the rest of his endangered life in the wild with his other non-purpleback gorilla friends!"

"I don't have _time_ for this, though!" I exclaimed, this time going ignored by the rest of the room. "I don't have time for extra credit, and I don't have time for your save-the-apes agendas!"

"They're _gorillas!_"

"But you _will!_" Tucker stated, nearly drowning out Sam's correction. "See, I've programmed your class schedule into Sandra, along with figuring in time to catch all the ghosts Sam made me release."

Sam glowered at him. It was not a good glower. It was an 'I'm-gonna-beat-you-with-a-steel-toed-combat-boot-if-you-so-much-as-open-your-mouth-again' glower.

I approve of this glower.

"Seriously, I'm _not_ letting you micro-manage my life, Tuck," I told him.

"But I've even scheduled in zoo time to work on the Pureblack Chimpanzee extra credit!"

Sam's glower turned into a full-out death glare. "They're _Purpleback Gorillas!_" Then, she blinked. "Wait, you already scheduled zoo time?"

He smirked, knowing he'd won her over to the dark side. "Yep."

She turned to me. "You can do a trial period, right?"

As if I can say no now that they're both giving me those sad, puppy eyes. I rolled my own eyes, then sighed. "Fine, we'll do a trial period…."

And as we left the computer room, I felt a chill go down my back. Those two were scary when they teamed up….

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

Note to self: staring at a chimp—sorry, _gorilla_—is _extremely boring_. Stifling a yawn behind my hand, I turned to Tucker, asking, "How long've we been here?"

Tuck took one glance at his PDA (this one named Kathy) and stated, "Six hours."

I looked back at Sam's proud, magnificent, oddly-colored primate friend. He was currently, as he had been for the past six hours, scratching his butt. "Seriously, Sam, how's reporting on an ape itching himself gonna get me extra credit?"

She completely ignored me. "He's a majestic creature! He deserves to be set free, not locked up in this inhumane, so-called 'habitat!'"

"He's been _majestically scratching his butt_ for _six hours_. If nothing's happened yet, nothing _will_." I yawned again, stretching out on the floor.

You know, for a tiled floor, it's actually pretty cozy. My eyes slid closed, glad for the break from watching the majestic butt-scratcher.

Sam was mumbling something, but I'm sure it wasn't important.

And if it was, whoops.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

I awoke to rather severe shivering.

And next to Tucker, who had also just woken up.

Both our eyes went wide, and we jumped apart. "Nothing happened!" Tucker exclaimed quickly, looking around for Sam. When he didn't find her, he glanced back at me, highly nervous. "...She has new blackmail on us now, doesn't she?"

I rolled my eyes. "Given that she was awake and we weren't? _Duh_."

And then there was yelling and animal noises.

And a giant metal thing flying right at me.

Wait….

"AAAAHHH!" I dove to the side, barely avoiding the giant metal thing. Which was good, seeing as said thing was actually a seven-foot-tall body-builder-gone-wrong ghost.

Wait, what?

I looked closer, and, sure enough, the thing—dude, I guess—had that faint glowing aura around him. His was a bluish-white. His skin—er, metal?—was also a blue color, and he had on a black tank top, pants, and boots. A flaming green mohawk took the place of hair for him.

No, seriously, _flaming green mohawk_.

...And now there's a giant metal gun in my face.

What.

"Um, hi?" I asked nervously. Hey, you'd be nervous, too, if some giant metal ghost had just shoved a giant metal gun into your face for no apparent reason!

He smirked at me. That can't be anything but bad. "Hello, prey."

I glanced over at an equally-nervous Tucker, one eyebrow raised. "Did he just call me prey?" I questioned, thumbing at the metal guy.

Tucker nodded back at me.

And metal ghost dude took offense. Scowling, he poked me with the giant metal gun. "Of _course_ I called you prey! I am Skulker, the Ghost Zone's Greatest Hunter, and you, halfa, are my newest prey." He grinned again at me, adding, "I'll keep your pelt as a wall hanging in my bedroom."

…._WHAT._

I winced away from the psycho. "Um, _ew!_"

And then a rampaging gorilla stormed through and knocked Skulker through a wall and far, far away.

And then we realized _a gorilla was rampaging through the zoo_.

"AAAHHH!" Tuck screamed. "LOOSE GORILLA!"

"On it!" I yelled back as he dove for cover. I switched into my ghost form and grabbed the gorilla, safely fazing it back into its habitat. That done, I flew back to Tucker, who was still cowering. I rolled my eyes at him. "The gorilla's gone, you're safe now."

He sighed in relief, crawling out from under the desk he'd hidden behind. "Oh, good. Now, who would _possibly_ set loose a _gorilla?_"

We both turned towards the door, where Sam had just walked in, looking (very) slightly guilty. "Sam. There something you wanna tell us?" I asked, hands going to my hips in a pose reminiscent of Mom when I'm about to get grounded.

"Like you letting the gorilla out?" Tuck added, then smirked. "Wait 'til we tell the school that you—!"

She held up a Polaroid picture of the two of us, asleep and _hugging_. Oh, the unforetold horrors that would come if _that_ got around school.

Tucker and I both grimaced. "Or not," Tuck said quickly. "After all, we really have no proof that you did anything wrong."

I gave her a shaky grin. "Yep, our little secret!"

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

We trudged home the next morning, glad that it wasn't a school day. Of course, we all decided to head to my house to work on the essay part of the project, only to find that the _Genius Magazine_ reporter was there to interview Mom. As soon as we got in the front door, I could hear them in the kitchen.

"—_what you're working on now?"_ That was obviously the reporter.

"_Well—"_

"_It's called the Ghost Gabber!"_

I slapped a hand to my face as we heard my dad interrupt Mom to bring up the _worst_ invention in the _history_ of awful inventions.

"_DAD! Put that thing __**away!**__"_ Ah, Jazz. The only one in our family who constantly uses logic rather than the ghosts-are-gonna-get-us-all-unless-we-make-stupidly-named-things-to-hurt-them-with brand of thinking that Mom and Dad seem to like so much.

Why am I not added in there? Simple. I'm the only one who uses the stay-out-of-it-while-the-rest-duke-it-out-themselves-then-side-with-the-winner train of thought.

"_Mom is __**actually**__ working on a new form of self-generating energy!"_ Jazz continued. She was determined to make this interview go off without a hitch, apparently.

Sam nudged me, nodding at the stack of binders she was carrying. "You gonna lead us upstairs so I can dump all this, or am I supposed to hold these all day?"

"_She's an amazing, intelligent woman—_"

I blushed. "Ah, r—right."

"_Connie, my primary focus right now is ghost hunting."_

And now all three of us were rolling our eyes at my mom, who had just sabotaged Jazz's perfectly planned interview. "Let's just go…."

Of course, we had to go through the kitchen to reach the living room (and the stairs), so we got to interrupt the interview ourselves.

We walked in as Connie was asking, "Did you just say _ghost hunting?_"

But by then, Mom had spotted the bags under our eyes and the general sleep-deprivedness that we all were exuding.

No, seriously, there was this overly-tired-feeling aura around Sam and Tuck, and it probably clung to me, too.

"Danny!" Mom exclaimed. "Look at you!" She bit her lip, crossing her arms. "I'm not so sure I like this overnight zoo research…."

"Mom," I began, trying to sound less tired and more placating, but I doubt that it came out as anything but monotone, "we're just a bunch of teenagers… at a zoo… at night… alone…."

And Sam and Tuck are giving me that you-should've-shut-up-five-minutes-ago look they usually give me when I ramble. Whoops.

"Um, we'll be in my room."

So of course the Ghost Gabber decides to translate now. This loud, shrieking, ear-piercing noise echoed out from it, making us all either wince or cover our ears. Oddly enough, this time when it made the noise, I could hear as a background an echo of everything I'd just said, plus an added "Fear me!"

Holy crap, this one really _does_ work! ...I am _so_ destroying it first chance I get.

"_Gimme that!_" Jazz yelped, grabbing the Gabber and shutting it off.

"Uh, we're gonna go get some sleep." We all rushed into the living room and to the stairs, hearing the device yell out, _"Uh, we're gonna go get some sleep, fear me!"_ before Jazz stowed it away somewhere.

I sighed, rubbing at my ears. "So, that thing actually works."

Sam and Tuck shot dual blank stares at me. "What do you mean, Danny?" Tuck asked. "It just howled, it didn't translate anything."

I stared back at them. "You… couldn't hear it?" They still gave me those blank stares. My eyes went wide. "Oh, crap, you couldn't, could you?"

Sam's eyebrow shot up at that. "You mean you _could?_"

"Duh! It said, plain as day, 'Uh, we're gonna go get some sleep, fear me!' when we left!"

Now their looks turned from blank to worried. "Danny, it just did that shrieking howl thing again," Tuck told me.

"...Holy crap, I can speak ghost!"

Sam's hold on the binders gave out at that moment as both she and Tucker slapped their foreheads. She, of course, was the first to recover. "You are _half-ghost_, Danny, of _course_ you can speak ghost!"

My brow furrowed as I thought of something. "Wait, but you guys always seem to understand what the ghosts we fight are saying?"

"That's because _they_ usually speak _English_," Tuck said. "We haven't gone up against anything that sounded like the Gabber."

"Huh. So, you can't understand the Gabber, and you don't see the auras. Okay."

"What auras?"

...That was out loud. Darn it.

"Um, just—See, there's this—All the ghosts we've seen have these glowy things around them, so I started to call them auras. And they seem to flare up whenever the ghost's mad."

They blinked at me. "So," Tuck said, "the Lunch Lady ghost?"

"Aura."

Then Sam, "The Dragon ghost?"

"Well, the necklace specifically, but yeah, aura."

"And those ectopuses?"

"Auras."

"And that thing tonight?"

My brow furrowed again. "Metal dude? What'd he say his name was… Skulker? Yeah, he had an aura, too, but it was kinda blending in with his flaming mohawk around his head."

My two best friends shared a look for a moment, then said together, "Weird."

I rolled my eyes. "What's weirder is that you guys have auras, too—"

And as I pushed open the door to my room, I was racked with the Chills again, and said metal dude—Skulker, needa remember names, _Skulker_—appeared in the doorway.

"_You!_" Sam and Tucker gasped.

Skulker smirked at us. "Hello again, ghost child."

And then a net shot out at me, and I was dragged into my room.

The door slammed shut behind me, so apparently Tuck and Sam aren't invited to this little get-together.

"Ah, the ghost child in his natural environment," Skulker was saying, glancing around my room.

I glared at him. "What do you want?" I was also somewhat embarrassed, seeing as I hadn't exactly cleaned up in a while….

Wait, don't worry about that, worry about the _giant metal ghost hunter in your room!_

"I am Skulker," he stated again. "A collector of all things rare and unique. And _you_, ghost child, are one of a kind."

And then he stepped on one of my model rockets, snapping it in half.

"Hey!" I yelled at him, glaring once more. "That took me two months to make!"

He just ignored me, continuing on. "Pity, though. I'd hoped you'd put up a better fight."

I felt my eyes blaze green as I summoned that cold area where my powers lay. "Believe me," I said, transforming and bursting out of the net, "I _will!_"

I dove at him, shoving him into the wall, but he just pushed back, throwing me into my desk. I was _definitely_ gonna have some bruises tomorrow. He flew at me, readying a punch, but I ducked, and instead he hit my—

"Aw, man, my stereo!"

Poor thing never had a chance. And now it was cinders. I _really_ hope Mom and Dad will let me have some money to replace it….

GAH FIST COMING AT ME!

I managed to block this one, throwing a punch of my own before spinning around to kick Skulker away. He landed against the side wall, narrowly avoiding my bed. Good thing, too, there's _no way_ I was sleeping on the floor after that all-nighter at the zoo.

And a small rocket was just shot at me. I dove, and luckily it wasn't a heat-seeker or anything, 'cause it kept going, straight into—

"_My computer!_" Aw, man, this ghost is officially going _down!_

I charged at Skulker, my eyes flaring again, and this time I actually noticed my _own_ aura flaring in response to my anger.

Unfortunately, this distracted me from Skulker's next attack, and I went flying through the floor and crash-landed on the kitchen table.

_So_ not paying for any of this stuff to be fixed.

I glanced up as Skulker flew down through the ceiling and noticed Tucker standing, gaping at us.

And again, I was _just_ distracted enough for Skulker to smirk and grab me, saying, "Come, ghost child, time to see your new home!" before pulling me through the floor and into the lab.

I squirmed, trying to break free, but Skulker had an iron grip, being _metal_ and all. "What do you think you're _doing?_" I yelped, still struggling to get away.

He just smirked again, continuing to drag me towards the currently shut Ghost Portal. "Bringing you back to my world so you can be put on display in your new cage."

My eyes went wide at that. "What?" By now, we were nearly at the Portal, and he was starting to force it open. "NOOOO!"

And a wild Sam appeared, jumping in front of the now-open doors and yelling out, "No is right, Danny! Cages are _wrong!_ How do you think poor, majestic Samson feels being kept in a cage?"

Okay, _really_ not the time for—

"But—" Skulker tried, his smirk disappearing.

"He's a _beautiful_ animal, and he _deserves _to _roam free!_"

And Skulker's face fell even more. Go Sam! "I—" he tried again.

"Should be _ashamed!_"

Thank you, distraction that is Sam on a rampage, for allowing me to wind up and kick Skulker into a wall, barely missing Tucker, who had apparently followed Sam downstairs. But of course, when Tucker went to dive out of the way, he tripped and fell, losing both his glasses and his precious PDA.

Which Skulker was picking up.

...This can't be good.

"This technology," Skulker said, eyeing the device closely, "it's so sleek, so advanced!" He glanced then at the metal gauntlet on his wrist, where an _extremely_ outdated, um, _thing_ sat, taped down and held together by a mix of string and gum. Not exactly MacGyver quality. "Hmm, I wonder…." Skulker trailed off, then yanked the old device out of his gauntlet before slamming the PDA into its place.

Pfft, like _that's_ gonna—

And the wires are glowing and hooking into the PDA. Which is also glowing. And pretty much _all_ of Skulker was glowing.

Screw not good, this is gonna be _really fricking bad._

"Hey!" Tucker yelled, having finally picked up his glasses and noticed his missing PDA (and where it'd gotten to). "I've got three more payments on that!"

And Sam and I just face-palmed simultaneously. "_So_ not the time, Tuck," I hissed at him.

Skulker just batted Tucker away, then grinned down at his new arm-piece. "Marvelous."

I scowled, flying at Skulker to knock him into next week. Sure, I was annoyed with Tuck, but that didn't mean other ghosts could hurt him!

But a laser just shot out of Skulker's gauntlet and nailed me, causing glowing green shackles to incase my wrists and ankles.

...Yeah, this _so_ just got even worse.

Sam took one look at me, then glared over at Tucker. "Good going, Tuck, you just mad the bad guy _even worse!_"

He shrugged back. "How was _I_ supposed to know my PDA was ghost-compatible?"

I rolled my eyes at them. Only my friends could bicker at each other while I was about to be dragged away to the Ghost Zone as a freaking trophy.

Speaking of which, there is a giant metal hunter in my face now. He smirked down at me, leveling his arm-laser at me once more. "Say goodbye to this world, ghost chi—!"

...Was his arm playing the William Tell Overture?

Apparently so, since he glanced at it, reading something off the PDA. "What? 'Fly to library, get book on eating habits of Purpleback Gorilla?'"

And a jetpack burst out of his back and shot him up through the ceiling and out of my house.

"...What."

And then the shackles on my arms and legs disappeared. "..._What?_" I echoed, seriously confused by this odd (but welcome) turn of events.

Sam and Tuck came over towards me as I stood and released the cold to return to human form. "Seriously, guys, what just happened?" I asked them, glancing between the two.

Both shrugged. "I dunno," Sam said, "I was gonna ask you—"

"_Danny, where are you? Someone wants to meet you!"_

We all froze as my mom's voice echoed down to us.

"Aw, crap, my room!" I yelled, changing back once more to fly up the two flights to my (officially ruined) bedroom. As soon as I landed, I let go of my ghost mode just in time as the door burst open.

"Danny, this is Connie, from _Genius Maga_—"

I shoved at the door, complaining, "Geez, don't you people ever knock!" before slamming it shut in their faces. I leaned against it, breathing heavily.

Jazz is _so_ going to kill me for that.

"_I'm gonna kill him for that,"_ I heard my sister grumble. Ha! I'm _so_ psychic!

"_Broody, messy, reclusive,"_ Connie from _Genius Magazine_ stated, _"now __**those**__ are the signs of a true genius!"_

I grinned. Cool. I'm a genius!

"_If only he were a woman!"_

Okay, _so_ not cool.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

We got lucky in that Skulker didn't show up at all the next day, so we actually managed to catch all the mobster ghosts that'd been set free when Tucker dropped the Thermos. Unfortunately, the Box Ghost was still on the loose, as was Skulker.

Which is why I was understandably jumpy on the way to school on Monday. I kept looking over my shoulder and thinking every passing shadow hid the metallic hunter. When we finally reached the steps into the building, I turned one last time to check behind us. "Any sign of him?"

"Nope," Tucker said, checking his secondary PDA (Lila), "he hasn't bothered you in about twenty-eight hours." He stroked his chin. "Maybe he's hunting somebody else now?"

Sam just couldn't ignore the quick replacement of Tucker's PDA. "How many of those do you have?"

He shrugged. "A few. Good thing I beamed all of your info into here and backed it up. Global thinking," he said proudly, "the sign of a quality time manager!" Then the thing beeped incessantly at us. "C'mon, you're late!"

I rolled my eyes as he shoved me towards class. "Yeah, _great_ time managing…."

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

I managed to make it through the first half of my classes without any ghostly incidents, so it was with slightly less paranoia that I headed to my locker to drop off my books and grab my lunch. I quickly dialed in my combo and opened the door—

Which released glowing green chains that wrapped me up within seconds.

And Tuck kept saying I was being paranoid over nothing.

The Chills shuddered through me, and I hunched up to try to cover it as my breath fogged out in front of me.

Huh, that's new.

And then there was a Skulker behind me, probably smirking and saying, "I have you now, ghost chi—!"

...I'm really starting to love the William Tell Overture.

"_What?_" Skulker shrieked at the device on his arm.

Oh, hey, kids staring. _Awesome._

"'Go to newsstand and purchase article about Purpleback Gorillas?'" Skulker read off the PDA. I heard the wings shoot out behind him again and fly him off to the nearest newsstand.

I waited a moment, trying not to blush from the sheer amount of _staring_ going on, then the chains vanished, just like the shackles had. I waved a hand at the audience, telling them, "Nothing to see here, just another of my parents' goofy inventions gone wrong!"

Sadly, they all bought that and left. How pathetic.

Then Tucker, who had come over with Sam as soon as they realized something was wrong, glanced down at his PDA. "Hmm, I have the same thing on mine."

I rubbed at my arms, trying to get rid of the cold feeling left by the shackles (which seemed to have their own aura, which had, of course, brushed against me. Skin contact with another aura equals _really_ weird backlash type thing). "I say we blow that one off."

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

We went outside for lunch, as usual for us when the weather's nice, this time deciding to sit in the bleachers. Sam and Tucker had already dug in, but I hadn't even unpacked my own food, feeling _way_ too nervous and anxious to eat.

Which Sam, of course, noticed. "Danny, you _have_ to eat _something!_"

I sighed. "I_ can't_ eat now! What if he comes _now?_ He could be _anywhere!_"

Tucker took that moment to snag my bag from me, pulling out the milk that was in there. Sam and I glared at him, but he just shrugged, saying, "Hey, this food _was_ scheduled to be eaten." He opened the milk—

And this little, glowing blue ball shot out of it, then latched onto me. "GAH!" Once again, the aura interfered with my own, and I shut my eyes tightly as they flared green from the contact. The Chills came again, and Skulker landed on the bleachers behind me.

"Now, whelp, I, Skulker, shall finally—"

Seriously, the William Tell Overture officially _rocks_.

"'Take photos of gorilla?'" He stomped his foot as the jetpack/wings powered up. "Not again!"

As he took off and the newest trap dissipated, I turned to Tucker, who glanced at his PDA and nodded back at me.

Sam sighed. "At least he's regular?"

"Yeah, as in _on schedule_," I stated, smirking as a plan began to form in my mind. I looked over at Tucker again. "Hey, what's the next thing you've got scheduled, Tuck?"

He checked the device before reporting, "Gym, why?"

"Because we're gonna do something _ahead_ of schedule."

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

Gym is a scary time. Mostly because it involves seeing the football jocks parade around half-dressed, talking about how good they look.

Tucker and I walked into the locker room to hear Dash complimenting himself by the mirror. I went over to my locker, took one look at it, and felt goosebumps run up my arms.

Oh, yeah, _not_ opening that.

I turned to glance at Dash (thankfully fully dressed now). "Hey, Dash?" I called, trying to sound as pitiful as possible. "I'm too weak and defenseless to open my locker. Can you open it for me?"

Here's hoping this works. After all, how likely is it that Dash is _that_ gullible?

"Move it, loser," Dash said, pushing me aside to get at my locker.

...Apparently, _very_.

He threw open the locker and was flung against the back wall, caught in a gooey blue glowing bubble. Seeing the pulsing aura surrounding it, I was suddenly even more glad I'd tricked Dash into getting caught.

Skulker then followed the trap, looking over Dash and consulting the PDA on his gauntlet. "Hmm, my sensors indicate you're an average teenager, destined for an average life after high school."

To which Dash screamed "_FENTON!_" and alerted the ghost to my presence. Said ghost turned on me, then grinned.

"I shall—!"

And the best song in the world played once more.

"'Visit the gorilla display at the Museum of Natural History?'"

And he flew off again.

Wait a second….

"You were gonna send me off to New York?" I snarled at Tucker.

He shrugged. "You can fly, right?"

...It was a _very_ good thing Dash was still trapped in the (apparently) soundproof bubble.

Which then dissipated, and Dash stormed off, promising to "get me" after school. Awesome.

"So, what just happened?" Tuck asked me.

Lecture mode, go! "When Skulker hooked your PDA into his technology, he became bound to my schedule. He has to go to where I was going next!"

"Which means?"

I rolled my eyes. "We have the same schedule as him, only _we_ aren't forced to do them in _order_." I smirked at him. "It's time for the _hunter_ to become the _hunted!_"

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

We'd cut out of last period to get to the zoo early. We hid, then waited for Skulker to show up and attack.

Surprisingly, that took him an hour after the schedule. Hunters are pretty patient, who knew?

But he'd finally reached his breaking point. "Where _is_ he?" he finally yelled, checking his gauntlet from where he sat in a tree. "According to this infernal device—_which I cannot reprogram!_—he should've been here an _hour_ ago!" He flew down, landing inside the gorilla cage, right next to Samson. "You were supposed to be the _bait_, you stupid animal!"

Well, who he _thought_ was Samson.

Sam and Tucker threw off their gorilla disguise, Sam yelling back, "Samson's _not stupid!_"

Tucker smirked. "He's also not here right now." He tugged his PDA out, holding a stylus over it. "Can I take a message?"

Skulker's aura flared, for the first time, actually. Wow, he must _really_ be mad now. "You two!" he snarled. "You'll pay for this!"

Tucker and Sam did a very good job of not flinching when faced with a _TON_ of huge weapons. Of course, that may be because Tucker was currently holding our own secret weapon. "Oh," he said, "I don't think so." Then, he tapped the stylus against his PDA, causing the William Tell Overture to play on Skulker's gauntlet.

"'10:10,'" he read off the device, "'time for pushups?'"

For a huge, metal guy, his joints moved remarkably fluidly.

Tucker grinned at the ghost. "Good things our PDAs are compatible!"

Skulker struggled to stop performing the exercise, but nothing he tried worked. "Stop! Stop! I can't stop!"

I smirked, flying out from where I'd been hiding, saying, "I can help with that!" I flew at him, slamming a fist into the metal.

...Still kinda surprised I didn't break my hand hitting this guy.

I hit him a few more times, knocking various pieces of his armor off as I did.

Then a giant laser popped out from his remaining armor, aimed at me. My eyes went wide, trying to think of a way to dodge.

"Ah, ah, ah!" Tucker said, distracting us both, but also stopping Skulker.

Aw, man, now I owe him one.

"10:12," Tucker read aloud as he typed up a message to send to Skulker, "polish armor!"

The Overture played again, and a giant buffer popped out from Skulker's shoulder, turning to start polishing Skulker's face.

I turned back to my best friend just as Sam scowled at him. "Quit fooling around, Tucker!" she grumbled.

"Power him down already!" I added, watching nervously as the ghost ripped the buffer off his face and chucked it.

Tucker waved a hand, saying, "Don't worry, dude. Everything's _totally_ under con—"

And an arrow whizzed by, stabbing through Tuck's PDA and sending it crashing into a tree.

"—trol?" he ended, eyes wide as he stared at his now-dead PDA. "Aw, man! I had _four_ more payments on _that_ one!"

I took a page from Sam's book and scowled at my friend. "...Tucker, you're fired."

Skulker glared at all of us, turning yet another huge gun on me. "Very well. I had simply planned on using your pelt for a wall hanging, but now I shall lay it at the foot of my bed, drain your blood for ink, and use your bones for silverware and your skull for a mug!"

….

"_**EW!**_" all three of us yelped. Seriously, _dude is __**psycho!**_

"Well, any last words, whelp?"

I glanced around quickly, then grinned (if it was slightly nervous, that's 'cause I was still a bit preoccupied by the list of _how to use my blood and bones_ _after I died_). "Just this." I landed, then patted my head, beat my chest, and scratched my butt.

Skulker scowled. "What are you doing?"

I smirked. "Phoning a friend."

...What, I like the old _Who Wants to Be a Millionaire._

Then a flying Purpleback Gorilla struck down Skulker.

Sam and Tucker's eyes went wide. "Dude."

"You learned his language!" Sam said happily.

"Sure," I replied, rolling my eyes, "all he does is scratch his butt."

We watched for a while as Samson beat the crap out of Skulker. Then Tucker turned to me. "I still don't get why a ghost needed a high-tech suit of armor."

"And you think _I'd_ know?"

But then I was dodging some thrown tech, going under an arm and over a foot before catching Skulker's… head.

"_Let me go!"_ something inside it screeched in an extremely high-pitched voice.

I noticed some glowing green legs sticking out from the metal head, so I tugged on them, feeling my eyes flare up as I invaded the other aura.

The tiny green legs were attached to a tiny green blob with eyes. _"I am Skulker! Skulker, do you hear me? FEAR ME! I am the greatest hunter in the Ghost Zone! You shall be mine!"_

I rolled my eyes. Wow, this dude was _totally_ compensating with that metal suit. "Thermos, please," I said instead, stowing that for mocking later.

Tucker happily turned on the Thermos, then aimed it at Skulker. I flew up to avoid the vacuum-like void from the device as it sucked the five-inch Skulker in.

With him caught, Sam quickly took the Thermos from Tucker, then turned to me. "So, what now? You still don't have enough for that extra credit essay."

I sighed, changing back as I landed. "I know." I noticed a piece of the ghost tech, bending down to pick it up. Might as well see if I can do anything with it. "I guess I'll just have to accept the D. It'll just have to be enough that we stopped the bad guy, saved the gorilla, and—"

I chose the exact _wrong _time to glance behind me.

"OH MY GOD."

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

It was with a certain amount of pride (and an overabundant amount of embarrassment) that I sat and listened to our biology teacher, Mr. Kirkshire, read aloud from the newest issue of _Genius Magazine_.

Especially since I was on the cover of said _female_ newsletter.

"'Brooding genius Daniel Fenton did what no other person was brave enough to do,'" he read off in his obnoxious, snooty voice, "'got close enough to the rare Purpleback Gorilla to discover Samson was actually a Delilah.'" He sneered at the paper. "What, the zoo never bothered to check?"

I grinned sheepishly. "Weird, huh? I guess they were respecting her privacy?"

This whole ghost thing was making me _way_ too noticed if I'd been in two papers in the past two and a half weeks. Lets hope this dies down over Halloween.

Oh, hey, Halloween's tomorrow.

"Well, Fenton, I have to admit, I'm impressed." Oh, right, teacher talking to me. "You wanted to bring up your grade so bad, you risked being mauled by a four-hundred-pound gorilla. So, here." He placed my gorilla essay on my desk, uncovering it to reveal—

"A _C?_" I was stunned. Seriously? "I nearly get killed by a gho—rilla and all I get is a _C?_"

Gorilla. So totally said gorilla.

"Life's a mystery. Next time, try the library."

And with that, class was dismissed. And I was ticked. As our teacher left, I turned to my friends. "_Seriously?_"

"Well, it's better than a D, right?" Sam tried to placate me.

"Man, this sucks!" I complained. "If only I had something to take this out on!"

The Chills shook me just as we heard, "_I AM THE BOX GHOST!_"

We all turned to see said ghost over by the filing cabinet, checking out a box of files.

"_AND ONCE I EMPTY YOU OF YOUR CONTENTS, YOUR MARVELOUS SQUARENESS SHALL BE MINE!_"

I grinned, my eyes flashing green. "Hello misplaced aggression."

Tucker checked his PDA before telling me, "You have five minutes."

I transformed quickly, smirking. "Which is four more than I'll need!"

Then I went to go beat up a box-obsessed ghost.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

A/N: I'm _so_ sorry that Skulker turned out so creepy. ...No, wait, I'm really not. He's a crazy, psycho hunter. He'll probably end up getting worse later on. Like season two or three or something. And no, Halloween will not be covered next, you have to wait one fic year for Fright Night.

And, yes, the Chills have started to show up as fogged breath, and the aura thing is being delved into. I'm now at the point where I see Danny's eyes turning to pure, glowing green every time he touches another ghost's aura. So, every time he hits another ghost. Fun times.

Lastly, I hope to eventually post pictures of each character on my Deviantart account (link on profile) for this fic. This includes year-to-year pictures of the main cast (Sam, Danny, Tuck, and Jazz) and the ghosts. Of course, that may take a bit of time, but I should get the first set up before school starts provided nothing insane happens.

...I lied, this is lastly, if you can guess the reasoning behind "Kirkshire" for the bio teacher, you'll win an OC in this fic, either a minor ghost or Casper High student/parent/teacher. Guess away! Read and review please!


	4. Attack of the Killer Garage Sale

A/N: ...So, um, yeah, not a lot is getting done for my other stories right now, sorry. There's a big long explanation for that, but I won't bore you with all that mess. Instead, enjoy this new chapter! Complete with psycho techno ghosts.

Also, do you know how difficult it is to write from the point of view of a jerk? Neither did I, until writing up this chapter. Gosh, Danny, popularity turns you into a jackass.

Remember, contest still up for the reasoning behind "Kirkshire." As a hint, the name sounds similar to an adjective describing his attitude. Winners get minor OC's.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

Halloween actually _did_ manage to get people to forget the two articles I'd been in, but other than that, boring. Seriously, not a _thing_ happened.

But now, not even a day later, things got _way weird_.

I came in to our kitchen to see _Dash Baxter_ sitting there, chin on his fist, staring at my sister and _sighing_.

He is _flirting_ with _my sister!_

...And if I don't wanna reveal my ghost side, he'll crush me if I try to stop him. Damn my self-preservation instincts.

So, I ignored the side of me that screamed out to be the overprotective little brother and the bright pink aura surrounding Dash and went into the kitchen, acting like I hadn't noticed either of them.

"Hey, Jazz, hey, Dash." Sadly, my act is actually pretty good. I blinked, letting my eyes go wide and freezing in what would look like shock. "_Dash?_"

He smirked at me, but Jazz motioned at all the books before them. "Hey, Danny. I was assigned Dash as my newest tutoree, and I'm hoping to use my experiences tutoring him in my thesis paper on 'Tutoring the Untutorable.'" She sighed then, frowning at Dash, who of course was too lovestruck to notice. "Unfortunately, he's disproving my hypothesis that no one is untutorable…."

I chuckled at that, but at Dash's glare, my laugh got cut off short. "Um, well, that's great and all, but I'm, um, gonna go see, uh, whether there's any, um, help I can give Mom or Dad downstairs. Bye!" I rushed off to the door to the basement, hearing Dash behind me.

_"So, I'm throwing this party on Saturday…."_

I rolled my eyes. Great, another A-Lister party that my genius sister is getting invited to but _I'm_ not.

Oh, well. Guess I'll just be doomed to loser-dom for yet another year.

I made my way down to the basement, noticing as I did that Dad was fiddling with something that looked suspiciously like a vacuum.

...This can NOT be good.

"Hey, uh, Dad," I said anyway, hoping I could fix whatever he'd managed to screw up this time, "what're you working on?"

Dad grinned widely at me, holding up the device. "It's the Fenton Weasel! This baby can suck up anything made of ectoplasm and spit 'em right back into the Fenton Portal!"

...Okay, so the Thermos, but in a vacuum. Okay.

"See, watch!"

My eyes went wide as Dad flipped the ON switch.

Oh, crap.

And suddenly everything was getting sucked into the Weasel, not just the ectoplasm samples Mom and Dad kept everywhere. Various pieces of unfinished weaponry, the Fenton Ghost Fisher, a remote, some boxes, and the Fenton Thermos all went flying into the Weasel.

And then the Thermos got stuck. I blinked, staring in shock that all those bigger things could fit just fine, but the _Thermos_ got stuck.

Once again, my parents' inventions have defied logic. It's weird how they keep doing that, but, hey, that's also how they managed to break into a dimension full of things _people don't believe exist._

Then I realized, oh, crap, _the Thermos is stuck_. The Thermos that I use to catch all the dozens of ghosts that break out of the Portal on an almost-daily basis _is stuck in the only other device that can catch ghosts._

I am _screwed_.

"Dang it," Dad grumbled, grabbing at the Thermos and trying to tug it out. He frowned when he realized he couldn't get it unstuck. "Here," he said, shoving the Weasel at me, "hold onto that, I'll go get the Fenton Unlodger."

AKA the Fenton Plunger.

"Um, but, Dad—" I started, having finally gotten a good look at the controls on the Weasel.

But he was already gone.

I rolled my eyes, but finished my thought, hovering a hand over the switch I'd seen. "Can't you just throw it into reverse?"

So I did.

And suddenly, things were flying _out_ of the Weasel as fast as they'd flown _in_. Random scraps of metal and weaponry and boxes and just crap in general were rushing around the room, almost turning the place into a real-life remake of the movie _Twister_.

Then the Thermos hit the wall. And the crap hit the fan.

The wall, needless to say, broke the Thermos. Then, a piece of the Thermos flung itself across the room, barely missing me, and into the button to open the Portal doors.

Wait. _Crap_.

The Portal doors slammed open, the swirling green-purple-black of the Ghost Zone spun hypnotically before me, and I felt my eyes flicker green and flare up before something came _out_.

"Ah ha!" the thing exclaimed. "I, TECHNUS, ghost master of electricity and technology, am _free_ of that infernal, technology-less place!"

...Techno ghost? In a lab coat, no less. Awesome, there's a mad scientist's ghost in my parents' lab.

...Somehow, this sounds like it'll be worse than having Cinderella in here.

Oh, right, have to fight ghost now. I transformed, tugging that cold part of me to the surface, and flew at Technus. "Oh, no, you don't," I growled, hovering before him. "You are _not_ using the technology in this lab to take over the world!"

Technus stopped for a moment, staring at me.

...He wasn't planning on doing that, was he?

And now he's grinning. Nope, totally _wasn't_ planning on doing that. "Child! What an _ingenious_ idea!" he cackled loudly. Then, quieter, he asked, "Have you ever considered being a tutor?"

Um, yeah, actually, back when my grades were okay because I wasn't spending every day catching ghosts and trying to hide my new half-ghost status from my parents.

Wait. I glared at him. "That wasn't _advice_, I thought you'd already come up with it!"

"...Can I still claim credit for it, then?"

I scowled and lunged at him, throwing my fist into his face. I felt my eyes flare slightly when our auras crossed, which made me pause.

That hasn't happened before….

Then he made some staff thing appear and zapped me with it. I was flung back towards where I'd dropped the Fenton Weasel. I paused for a moment, wondering why the heck my dad decided to call a vacuum the "weasel," then grabbed the hose and flew back up towards Technus. "Y'know, I've already been dumped on _once_ in my _own house_, and that was _more_ than enough for one day!" I aimed the suction end at the ghost and flicked the vacuum on.

Technus struggled to fight the pull for a moment, but the machine sucked him in.

...Along with half the stuff in the lab. Again.

For a split second, it looked like everything would be fine. Then

**BOOM!**

And ectoplasm splattered _everywhere_.

I was still holding the torn-off suction end of the Weasel in my hands when Dad called out, _"Danny! I'm coming back down! And I expect to see the lab exactly the way I left it!"_

My eyes went wide, taking in the green tinge that everything had taken on after getting splattered. Then, I took the only option I had as a normal, respectful teenager.

I turned intangible and went to hide in my room.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

I met up with Tucker and Sam at the Nasty Burger later that day. I was a bit preoccupied watching Dash handing out invites to his party to pay too much attention to what Sam was saying.

_"...Roller coaster… three years… life expectancy…."_

Tucker's response to… uh, whatever, was equally ignored. _"No way… bucks… food…."_

_"Hey… lend… cash."_

Man, I wish I could get into that party….

_"Lend… repay… out… my reach. Right…?"_

He's even inviting Doug Wilson, the kid that eats paper? Seriously? And _I_ don't get an invite?

"**_DANNY!_**"

I jumped, turning to my (very angry) friends. One of my hands went behind my neck, rubbing nervously as I grinned weakly at them. "Uh, y—yeah?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "Something more interesting going on?"

I sighed, and we all turned to watch Dash finish handing out his invites. "Great," I said, "it's the hottest party of the year, and Paulina's going, and I'm not, _again_."

...Yes, she ended up dumping me at the dance, but I'm still a hormonal teenage boy and she's still the prettiest girl in school. So sue me.

Sam scowled at me. Oh, boy, here it comes…. "I still don't understand what you see in her."

I turned back to stare over at her again, resting my chin on the palm of my hand. "She's only, like, perfectly flawless."

Now we all turned to look at Paulina, who was up at the register. "Um, can I get a Mighty Meaty Cheesy Melt? How meaty is that, exactly?"

The mighty bored cashier deadpanned, "That would be _mighty_ meaty."

Paulina's nose wrinkled at that, then she gave that flirty smile she's always giving the jocks. "Can I get that a mite _less_ meaty?"

Cue cashier's eye roll. "That's one Mighty Mini Meaty Cheesy Melt. Anything else?"

"A diet soda."

And now Sam was rolling her eyes. "You're right, she's a _goddess_."

Tucker sighed now, and we all turned back to face each other. "Why _don't_ we get invited to these parties? We've got style, charm, good looks." He crossed his arms, huffing. "At least, _I_ do, anyway."

"Dream on." And here comes anti-conformity!Sam. "On the social circuit, we're as invisible as Danny in his ghost mode. We're nobodies." ...But she sounded almost _happy_ about that…. "Of course, that will all change five years from now, but we've got each other, right?"

And there's a hand holding a paper in my face. ...Make that paper _on_ my face, hand having just slapped it there.

Ow.

"Here." I glanced up, having peeled the paper off my face, to see Dash standing there, looking decisively unhappy to be anywhere near us. "Your sister made me invite you." When Tucker started to look all hopeful at getting an invite of his own, Dash added with a sneer, "_Only_ you. Show up, shut up, go home, and nobody gets hurt."

He stalked off, and I stared down at the paper as several people walked by our table (which almost never happened, seeing as loserhood is apparently contagious).

"Yo, Danny!"

I blinked. Did… someone besides Sam or Tucker just speak to me?

"Hey, Danny!"

Oh my God, they did. And it's _spreading!_

"What's up, Fenton?" Kwan said before pumping his fists. "Party!"

Then, Paulina walked by _and waved at me!_ "See you Saturday, Danny."

I glanced down at the magical little paper in my hands that read "Dash Bash, Sat Nov 3. 9 pm. If you're cool, you'll be there." For a moment, my eyes narrowed in on the word "cool." I was, indirectly, told I was _cool_ by _Dash Baxter!_ Which made everyone else actually acknowledge my existence! "I… got an invite?" I grinned widely, hugging the paper. "I've arrived!"

Sam scowled, resting her chin on her fist, eyes rolling. "Swell. Send us a postcard from Popularityville."

I jumped up, heading out the door. "I will!"

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

I walked to school with Tucker and Sam the next day, feeling a bit guilty about ditching them. But, I mean, I got an _invite_. That totally makes it forgivable.

...Right?

"Seriously, Danny," Tuck was saying as we walked up to the school grounds, "ever since you got that invitation, you're all about the in-crowd."

I chuckled nervously. "What? Dude, no way. That's just ridiculous!" Then my eyes caught Kwan, standing over by Valerie (who was still mad at him for dumping her right before the dance and making her go with Tucker, who then never showed up—oh, whoops, that one was my fault. Uh… moving on!), and I grinned. "_Kwan!_ Lookin' good!"

The Asian jock turned to see me, grinning back and pumping his fists in the air again. "Fentonmeister! Woohoo!"

...Admittedly, he's a bit of an airhead.

"No, really, Danny," Sam said, causing me to turn back to see her frowning, "it's like—"

"Yo, Fenton, c'mere."

I sped over to Dash, not quite willing to risk losing the invitation. But I still heard Sam finish her sentence.

_"—we're not even here…."_

...I'm an awful friend….

"Fenton!"

But Dash is calling me over and it's only one day until the party and I _swear_ I'll apologize after it, so I still rushed over to the group of jocks. They were all reading some magazine, _JQ: Jocks Quarterly_. Dash handed it to me as he spoke.

"If you're coming to the party, you have to look the part." He pointed at the cover. "This is what we're all wearing. It's very high-end, very hip, very Dash."

...Did he just use his name as an adjective?

"You _do_ have one, _right?_"

That snarl can be nothing but bad news if I answer negatively.

"W—What? Of course. I—I have two, that's how hip and high-end I am." Lying through my teeth so I don't get uninvited (and pummeled, but mostly uninvited). This is the way high school works.

"Well, _wear one_." Dash was sneering still. Totally not invited willingly. I'll have to thank Jazz for getting me in. "I might've had to invite you so your sister would come, but if you embarrass me, she'll be doing her thesis on your bruises!"

...Okay, kinda torn between that overprotective feeling (he invited me just to get Jazz there?) and self-preservation (don't screw up, don't wanna die fully) again. But he just walked off, saving me from having to say anything that'd cause him to try and beat me up. Sam and Tucker came over once Dash and his buddies were gone.

I showed them the outfit, sighing. "This probably costs a fortune, but he'll kill me if I don't show up in it. How am I supposed to get that kinda money by _tomorrow?_"

Sam bit her lip, glancing away, then sighed. "Y'know, I almost hate to offer, but—"

"Hey, Danny!"

Paulina is talking to _me!_

"Wanna listen to my new CD? It's really crunk!"

...Crunk?

I turned to Tucker. "Uh, is crunk good?"

He gave me a deadpan stare worthy of Sam. "It's _Paulina_."

Right. "Crunk's good!" I turned to face her, running over and saying, "Be right there!"

I sat beside her under one of the trees, and she put in the CD.

_It's Friday, Friday Gotta get down on Friday—_

...I don't care how pretty Paulina is, crunk is _not good_.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

I arrived home and immediately smelled the tell-tale signs of Mom's cooking: burnt meat and ectoplasm. Then, I heard barking.

"Did we get a dog?"

Jazz rolled her eyes, pointing at the… microwave? that Mom was currently forcing closed. "No, Mom managed to put the 'frank' back in 'frankenstein' with their new microwave."

I turned to my parents. "...How?"

Mom smiled proudly, still holding the device closed. "We infused it with ectoplasm so it would cook ten times faster! There's just the _slight_ issue of radiation leaking into and reanimating whatever food we put in it."

...Great. Ghost hot dogs.

Ignoring that, I turned to Dad. "Hey, Dad, could I have some money to buy some clothes for the party tomorrow?"

Mom and Dad exchanged one of those glances they often gave each other anytime Jazz or I asked something that was in those parenting books they had. I still say Jazz never should've got them those. Then Dad was looking back at me, clapping me on the shoulder. "Danny, Danny, Danny. You know as Fentons, your mother and I make a lot of money by selling our inventions to the government."

Which inventions? Half of them don't work until I fix them for you.

"But as parents," Mom said, cutting in, "we understand that _you_ should understand the value of a dollar." She rubbed her fingers together in the universal sign for cash. "You want money, you've gotta _earn_ it."

"You mean, get a _job?_ But the party's _tomorrow!_" I complained. That's _so_ not cool. Plus, I'm fourteen! I can't even legally _get_ a job yet!

"Or sell something," Dad answered. "Like your comic books!"

WHAT.

"Or some other junk you don't need."

Okay, first off, my comics are _not_ junk! I still read them… occasionally. And Tucker and I trade them almost every year!

"Like those model rockets!"

NO. I built those myself, dammit, and I'm _not_ selling them!

Mom blinked at Dad, then narrowed her eyes (yes, I can tell even though she wears those red goggles), a hand on her hip. "Speaking of _junk_, that equipment from the Weasel explosion needs to be taken out to the shed."

You mean that building out back that most people use to store gardening equipment and a mower but Dad uses to store old ectoplasm samples, broken inventions, knick knacks, and other things that are currently collecting dust?

Which Mom just remembered. "_If_ there's room. That old barn hasn't been cleaned out in _years!_"

Dad rushed over to the box of ectoplasm-covered junk and hugged it tightly. "This is _not_ junk! These are _very_ important to me!"

Mom grabbed a tiny gizmo from the box, saying, "Do you even know what this is?"

Dad stared at it for a long moment before snagging it back. "Not a clue! But I know it is vitally important, so it's off to the shed!"

Then he handed me the box before grabbing another, equally covered in ectoplasm, and leading me outside to the large, barn-like building where we kept the (according to everyone but Dad) unimportant, broken crap.

Dad set down his box just inside the doorway, motioning for me to do the same. That done, we both stared around at the building. The walls and floor were covered in so many boxes, it was impossible to step more than two feet inside. Frankly, it was the sort of place you'd expect to see on an edition of _Hoarders_.

Dad frowned. "Y'know, maybe I _should_ get rid of this junk…." Then he brushed his hands off, heading back out. "But that's a job for another day!"

As he left, I took one last look around, remembering what he'd said earlier about selling things to make money. Suddenly, instead of seeing boxes of glowing green junk, I saw glowing green dollar signs.

I grinned. "Saturday's another day…."

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

Saturday came, and with it, a very last minute, early morning yard sale of all my parents' old junk that Dad wanted to keep.

...I'd never been so glad that my parents don't often venture outside the house.

I held up a small device, showing it off to Mr. Lancer. "It's a perfectly good vacuum motor," I told him. "Only been used once." In a device that just so happened to vacuum up everything in the room before exploding, but, hey, all salespeople lie to make the product sound better.

"Hmm." He still seemed unsure.

"Only ten bucks," I said, trying to make it sound like a steal, which it was, though more for me than him.

He grinned, taking it off my hands and forking over a ten dollar bill. "Yes, this should fix my Hair Hornet nicely."

Tucker, who was lounging in a chair behind me rather than helping out (he claimed it was too early to move and that he'd missed a feeding and thus was feeling woozy), decided to speak up. "Hair Hornet? You mean that crazy hair trimmer-slash-hedge clipper-slash-vacuum cleaner they sell on TV? Don't you need hair for that?"

I decided now would be a good time to turn away and act like I don't know Tucker.

Hey, this one's _totally_ forgivable. And it's self-preservation at its finest.

"Good one, Mr. Foley. I'll remember that on Monday, when I'm grading tests."

See? Now I might actually pass a test that Tuck doesn't.

As Lancer walked away, Sam came over, handing me a few bills. "Just sold a toaster. Y'know, I'm surprised your dad's letting you sell all this stuff. He's such a pack rat."

Don't I know it.

...But _he_ doesn't know I'm selling anything. "Yeah, well, he's been planning on getting rid of this stuff for a while, so he won't even miss it!"

I hope.

Tuck leaned back a bit more in his chair. "Well, I must say, I'm pleased with our turn out today." He opened up one of those reflector thingies for tanning. "We're doing a really brisk business."

"'We?'" Sam said, an eyebrow raised at him.

I cut in to avoid an argument, counting our profits. "I'm still twenty bucks short. How'm I gonna get that suit if I'm still short?"

Sam shrugged. "You're still welcome to hang out with us. Mega movie marathon at my place."

I blinked at her. "Your place?" She hasn't invited me over since we started hanging out more often with Tuck. I wonder if she still has the bowling alley….

Her eyes widened for a second, probably expecting me to blurt out about her mansion-in-disguise. "Well, I'd've invited you guys over sooner, but we're usually out fighting ghosts with you. I just decided maybe it was time—"

"Hey, Fentina!"

I bolted over towards Dash, just barely hearing Sam finish with, _"—for you to totally ignore us for the twentieth time."_

Eh, as much fun as it'd be to see Tucker's face when he sees Sam's place, I still wanna milk this invite for all it's worth.

Dash sneered down at me, and is it bad that I'm all too used to being on the receiving end of a sneer? Not even just from ghosts, either. I've been getting those 'ugh it's _you_' looks since Mom and Dad started publicly announcing their thoughts on the existence of ghosts, which is to say, I've _always_ gotten those looks.

"Your sister," Dash said, folding his arms over his chest, "has given me so much extra work that my computer crashed and burned. Got anything to make it work?"

Well, gee, what with all the helpful information you gave me, yeah, sure. _Not_.

"Well," I replied, trying to get the information I needed without annoying Dash any more than I already had by merely existing, "what operating system do you have?"

All I got was a blank stare.

I blinked at him, then had to keep myself from rolling my eyes. "What kind of computer is it?"

"A PC."

...Yeahh, _so_ helpful. "Okay, well…." I glanced over the computer accessories we had, grabbing a motherboard and a 16 gig flash drive. "This motherboard should help out a bit, just take it in to a store and ask them to replace it." I handed off those two to him, then noticed a box I'd missed earlier. I snagged that as well, passing it over to Dash, as well. "And this Portals XL operating system'll make it run like it's brand new. All you'll need to do with this is just install it." Thinking quickly through how much money these things would cost in stores and other yard sales, then remembered what I was short for the suit. I grinned. "Twenty bucks takes it all, and I'll even throw in the upgrade disk!"

Dash frowned at me for a moment, probably trying to decide whether I was trying to scam him. Frankly, twenty was actually a decent deal, even for a once-used operating system. But finally, he scowled down at me. "Fine. I'll take it." He forked over a twenty. "See you tonight, and just 'cause I can't believe I'm saying it, I'll say it again." He poked at my chest, glaring. "_See you tonight._" He spun and walked off, leaving me to count through the money we made once more.

A grin came to my face as I recounted just one more time. "_Yes!_ I am _in!_" I rushed over to Sam and Tucker, flashing the cash at them. "I got it! The last twenty bucks I needed, and from _Dash_ to boot!"

At that, both smirked, ignoring the fact that I'd ignored them for the irony that was me getting money for the clothes Dash required from Dash himself. The three of us could always appreciate some good humor, especially at the expense of those who bullied us. Dash in particular.

I smiled a bit brighter, glad to see that they were still okay with me, still willing to forgive me after the crappy stuff I'd been doing the past couple days. But then I glanced down at my cell phone and noticed the time. "Aw, man, I'd better get going if I'm gonna get that outfit before the mall closes!" I glanced at Sam and Tuck, biting at my lip. "You guys don't mind cleaning up, do you?" But my brain kept screaming _TEN MINUTES TO CLOSE!_ at me, so my mouth continued running. "Great! See ya!" And I took off.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

Sam told me later about what happened when Tucker came to her house. Apparently, he was first surprised by her 1) speedy receipt of their pizzas and 2) accidentally tipping the delivery guy a ten spot instead of a one. She'd often done that when we were younger, as well, especially when distracted, which she no doubt was, given her anxiety on telling Tucker (or anyone, really) about her family's wealth.

See, her great-grandfather just so happened to be Izzy Manson, inventor of the machine that twirls cellophane around deli toothpicks. Given how popular said machine became, her family was, frankly, set for life. For all generations to come.

Needless to say, Tucker had a fun time making Sam show off her wealth.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

I, luckily, was able to buy the sweatsuit that was required for the party _just_ before stores closed. It wiped me out of every single penny I'd made that day, but I really couldn't care less. I was gonna show up to the party wearing the cool suit that everyone else was wearing. I was finally going to be part of the in-crowd!

Even if it's only for one night, this is still the closest to popular I've _ever_ been.

So, I was heading back home, having grabbed my hover scooter from home before I'd left, the bag with the suit hung over the handlebars, when the chills wracked through me, culminating in that wisp of blue leaking out of my mouth.

I _definitely_ needed to look into finding a way to hide that.

But then I glanced up to see a hose coming at me, a razor attached to one end of it. My eyes went wide as the device keyed in on me and dove down towards my head. I ducked just in time as it flew by, buzzing about a millimeter off the top of my hair.

I scowled at the device, unamused. "Hey, I just got my hair the way I like it! On my _head!_"

Then, before my eyes, the razor turned into an old-fashioned barbershop blade.

"And I am _way_ too young to shave!"

It flew at me again, and I quickly transformed, yelling out, "Going ghost!" I spun out of the way of the blade, luckily, seeing as it swiped straight through where my neck had been a second ago. My jaw dropped at the close call. "Woah, it is a _hair_ cut, not a _head_ cut!"

I spun tightly, using my ghost-powered speed to build up momentum before flinging myself at the hose part and slamming the whole device into the ground. Once it was down, I pulled away a bit, grinning at the easy victory.

So of course that was when the blade suddenly changed into a giant pair of scissors, snapping at me. I bolted back up into the air, avoiding the dual blades to come back around behind and snag the hose part in my hands. I thought quickly and began spinning once more, this time flinging the ghost clippers off into the distance once enough momentum was built up. It was sent flying, and I considered the fight over.

Then I remembered my scooter and the bag of clothes, which were just about to be run over by a cab. I dove down, snagging both and carrying them off to the side of the road, sighing in relief to see the clothes hadn't been messed up.

I glanced in the direction the clippers had gone. "...I know I should be worried, and I will be. ...Right after the party."

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

While I was busy getting home, not getting killed, and getting dressed for the party, Tuck was busy quizzing Sam on what she could and could not buy with all her riches. They told me that, at one point, Tuck mentioned that with her money, Sam could be one of the most popular girls at school.

Sam's response was a simple one, one I'd heard far too often when we were kids and I'd ask the same question of her. She told him that, if she had to buy her popularity, it wasn't worth it.

After that is when things started to get really interesting, even if they didn't notice the remote they'd gotten at the yard sale glowing green just yet.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

Of course, things started to get interesting for _me_ when I got home and was getting changed. Okay, that wasn't the interesting thing, the interesting thing was when I heard Jazz rummaging in the fridge for food, followed by psychotic barking and a shriek.

I was rushing downstairs when the door slammed shut and Jazz grumbled, "Great... leftovers."

I chose to ignore that, not wanting to start her on another 'our parents' inventions ruin everything' rant again, and went into the kitchen, showing off the outfit I wore and doing a spin. "Whaddaya think?" I asked my sister, who was studying me closely. "Is it da bomb? Is it fresh? Is it stoopid?" Realizing how that sounded, I added quickly, "With an oh-oh?"

Jazz rolled her eyes at me, ruffling my hair. "Oh, it's stupid, I'll give you that."

I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest after readjusting the sideways visor that came with the suit. The suit itself was white with blue side stripes, made up of a baggy jacket and pants about five sizes too big for me. Under the jacket, I wore a plain black wife beater, and on my feet a pair of blue and white converse.

I thought I looked good, if a bit like a rapper. "You'll change your tune when you see me at the party." Then I took a closer look at Jazz, who was wearing her usual black three-quarter sleeve shirt with teal blue culottes and ballet flats. "Uh, _when_ are you changing?"

She sighed at me. "Not changing, not _going_."

My eyes went wide. "_What?_" I shrieked. "B—But you're the only reason Dash even _invited_ me!"

I could tell she tried to seem apathetic, but I knew her too well. "Not caring," she said, even though she was forcing herself not to nibble her lip.

"B—But he'll—he'll _kill_ me if I show up without—!"

And then Dad came flying in, screeching, "_CODE RED!_"

And all Jazz's concern flew out the window as she rushed towards the stairs. "And not staying!"

Lucky. She got away just in time.

Dad was glancing around like a paranoid schizophrenic, checking in the cabinets and under the table and behind doorways. Finally, I couldn't take it any more. "Uh, what's up, Dad?"

He didn't even turn to me, still busy combing through the room. "There's no time! Someone raided the junk shed while we were working!" Oh, but now he's _right_ in my face. "Danny! Did you see anything?"

I tried, I really did, to not look guilty, but I could feel my feet start to shuffle and my brow get sweaty. "Uh, n—no, no! Not a thing! But we should _totally_ compare notes whenIgetbackfromthepartybye!"

And, like the coward I am, I ran out the door, hearing Dad behind me open the fridge and yell for the ghost-dogs to, _"Cover me, boys! SERPENTINE!"_

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

I got to Dash's house shortly after 9 o'clock. I had a feeling that I was one of the last people to arrive, but I didn't realize that I was _dead_ last until a moment later.

Dash opened the door after I knocked, and I stared for a second, highly confused to see him wearing what was definitely _not_ the sweatsuit I'd paid nearly $200 for. Instead, he wore blue jeans, red converse, and a white shirt reading "High on Stress" in red.

In other words, what I wore _every frickin' day_.

"Uh, Dash?"

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, right. See, you're not part of my posse, so you didn't get the memo. After buying that computer stuff, I didn't have money for the suit, so I changed the dress code to 'loser chic.'"

He opened the door a bit more to show everyone wearing the clothes that Sam, Tuck, and I wore on a daily basis. I just stared for a moment, taking in the sheer amount of people dressed like us before registering what Dash had said. No one else was wearing the sweatsuit, meaning I was the _only one_ who looked like an idiot. Even Doug the Paper Eater had gotten the memo.

Then Paulina walked over, dressed as Sam. She motioned to the outfit. "You like it? It's so hideous it's cool!" Then she glanced at me, wrinkling her nose. "Ew. Who dressed you, your mom?"

And suddenly everyone was laughing, and I was _really_ wishing I hadn't milked the invite quite so much.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

Back to Sam and Tuck, they explained the interesting part that happened next. They'd finally started the movie marathon, and were halfway through the newest karate movie before the movie began rewinding and fast forwarding itself.

Sam, of course, yelled at Tuck for not just asking to rewatch something, but he told her that he didn't have the remote. In classic horror movie style, they turned to the remote, seeing it floating and glowing as it kept pressing buttons on its own.

Then, as if that weren't weird enough, it flew out the window, causing Sam and Tuck to chase it down through the town.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

I tried to make the best of the party. I mingled with the people, but every time I spoke to anyone, they'd just ignore me and leave.

Call it karma for ignoring Sam and Tuck.

I finally saw a group playing spin the bottle (really? Didn't we outgrow that years ago?), and paused by the circle as Paulina spun. Somehow, the bottle actually ended up pointing at me.

I grinned, but tried to hide it. "Huh, uh, look at that."

Paulina's nose wrinkled up again, and she reached a foot out to nudge the bottle with her toe, making it point instead at a vase. She smiled brightly. "Sorry, Danny, but rules are rules!"

...And the most popular girl in school was making out with a vase. Our school is _so_ screwed up.

I continued on my way, sighing. "What am I even doing here?" I wondered quietly to myself. "These people aren't my friends…." I took another glance around the room, rolling my eyes. "Even if they look like them." Another sigh escaped me. "Man, I wish Sam and Tuck were here. It's lonely being popular—well, non-popular…."

I found myself heading up some stairs, just looking for a place to hide out until the party was over. Then, the chills came again, that blue mist flowing out of my mouth with them, and I glanced up, seeing a massive amount of glowing green machines flying in through the wall and down the hallway.

"What in the world…?"

I hadn't seen floating electronics since Sam showed me that toaster she got from Denmark.

I followed the electronics into what _had_ to be Dash's room, judging by the football posters on the walls. There, I saw something truly terrifying.

All the machines were coming together, building up into a giant monster that barely fit inside the large room. Its head was made from Dash's computer, a washer/dryer and toaster made its torso, one arm was that set of clippers (which I now realized was a Hair Hornet), the other arm one of those cherry pickers from crane games. Luckily, it wasn't large enough yet to have pulled together legs and feet, but still it looked highly intimidating.

Then, it spoke, and I realized that the monster was actually made up of all the junk I'd sold, the junk that had, at one point, been covered in ectoplasm.

"HAHA!" it said in a nasally voice that was just familiar enough to place. "I am Technus! Master of all things mechanical! And once I complete my construction, you will all succumb to my awesome pow—pow—pow—"

As he echoed himself, the image of a Bane-like face kept flickering like a tape set on repeat. He finally got a hold of himself and frowned.

"What is wrong with me?" he murmured, and I glanced at Dash's desk, seeing the Portals XL upgrade disk.

Dash hadn't updated the program yet! But I can't let Technus get that disk. I transformed, pulling the cold inside me to the forefront, then dove towards the desk. "Oh, no," I stated, "you are _not _using that disk to upgrade your programming!"

...There was another of those awkward pauses and I felt the overwhelming need to facepalm as I realized that, yet _again_, I'd spouted out an idea he hadn't had yet.

"That's a _great_ idea!" Technus said happily. "Forget tutoring, you should be a teacher!"

We both dove for the disk, but I got to it first, tucking it away into my suit's belt. Suddenly I was being pelted with bread-shaped ecto-energy. I was blown through the wall and into a closet, rubbing at my head. Ghost toast? Really? I don't even _like_ toast, for crying out loud!

Then I glanced around the closet. Dozens of red and white jackets hung from the rack, and for a moment I just stared. "...How many letterman jackets does one guy need?" I reached behind me, having felt something soft that had cushioned my fall, and pulled out a small, fluffy, pink teddy bear. Turning around showed that the closet was full of these bears in all sorts of pastel colors. "...And I don't even _want_ to know about these…."

I shot up through the ceiling before rocketing back down, taking Technus by surprise and knocking him into the ground. Guess this guy's not as tough as he looks.

But then he stood back up. "Huh, you're not too bad for a whippersnapper. But I think you're still a bit wet behind the ears!"

Then, the cherry picker shot out, snagging me around the stomach and dragging me into the dryer. I punched at the roof of the tumbler, yelling, "Is _everything _you say some sort of horrible pun?"

And that comment got me a one-way trip through the heavy cycle. Note to self: treat my towels and t-shirts better, this dryer thing sucks.

The dryer finally spit me out, sending me crashing into Dash's desk, which splintered and broke into hundreds of pieces. He's gonna kill me when he finds out. I shook myself back into reality and lunged again at Technus, but he phased through the wall, causing me to crash into Dash's stereo.

Then there were footsteps right outside, and I quickly followed Technus as the door opened and Dash screamed out, "_Fenton! You're a dead man!_"

Yeahhh, when am I not?

Outside, Technus was yelling something about being the destroyer of worlds or some such nonsense, and Sam and Tucker were running over, Tuck holding the spare Thermos he kept at his house (which I'll have to use to remake the one that broke in the Weasel accident) and Sam commenting about how my fun was coming to an end.

Right, 'cause it's been _so_ fun being the only one who spent a couple hundred bucks on stupid clothes that no one else was wearing….

But, I needed help and I wasn't above begging at this point. "GUYS!" I yelled down to them as Technus started to aim his various sharp, pointy gadgets at me. "HELP!"

...And now they're turning away.

I was forced to dodge the clippers, scissors, blades, and toast-blasts as I begged them. "YIII! GUYS, C'MON, SERIOUSLY, HELP!" When they still ignored me, I found myself just spilling my guts, still ducking and diving and dodging around the attacks from Technus. "I'M SORRY I CHOSE TO HANG OUT WITH THE POPULARS KIDS INSTEAD OF YOU GUYS! IT WAS STUPID AND SHALLOW AND THEY WEREN'T EVEN WEARING THE STUPID SWEATSUIT AND THAT'S NOT REALLY THE POINT BUT I'LL NEVER DO IT AGAIN!"

And suddenly they turned back around. "How can we be of assistance?" Sam asked.

I flew down to them. "He's running on an old version of Portals XL. Dash didn't upgrade it."

Sam and Tuck both scoffed. What? We're losers, we know about computers and stuff. "That piece of vaporware?" Sam complained. "It's the worst software _ever!_ How'd you even convince him to buy it?"

We all stopped for a second, then I said bluntly, "It's _Dash_."

"...Right."

Then Tucker grinned. "Stall him! I think I know a way to beat him!" He turned to Sam, asking her, "Can you get me an upgrade for my PDA?"

"At this time of night?" she questioned back.

What? It's almost midnight, after all, on a Saturday. Most places are closed.

"Uh, yeah?" Tuck said sheepishly, realizing his request was probably—

Sam shrugged. "Sure." Then she pulled out her phone, calling someone quickly.

—Completely reasonable. Huh. Money really _does_ make things happen.

But then Tuck shooed me, reminding me to stall for as much time as possible. So I flew back up to where Technus was still spouting out plans for destroying the world with his technology or something. I grabbed onto one of the robot's arms, flipping him over my shoulder in a judo move Mom had taught me years ago, before yelling, "Get back, you… hunk of my dad's junk!"

Okay, so as far as insults go, not the best. But it still ticked him off.

"Junk?" he growled. "_Junk?_ Could mere junk do _this?_" He tugged out the remote that Sam had bought and started pressing buttons.

And suddenly I was wearing a cowboy costume. I yelped, confused for a second, but he'd already hit another button, and I had on a dress and had sprouted—well, female parts.

_Not cool._

Another jab and I was suddenly Spock from Star Trek. There was a split second moment where I wanted to hold up my fingers in the classic Vulcan greeting and say "Live long and prosper…."

But then I realized I was in the middle of fighting off a ghost, and I scowled, grabbing the remote from him with a snarled, "Give me that!"

I pressed a button as well, and suddenly I was back in my Hazmat suit, thankfully. As I looked up from the remote, though, I was blasted in the face with ghost toast and flew back into Dash's house. Technus crashed in after me, and suddenly everyone was staring.

Except Paulina. She just turned up her wrinkled nose again, complaining, "Ugh, is _everybody_ invited to this party?"

For once, Dash showed common sense as he began pushing people to the door, yelling, "Just RUN!"

Everybody bolted out the door, and I turned to face Technus once more, just as he shot that cherry picker at me again, lifting me up to look him in the eye. I struggled, trying to pul myself out of his grip as my eyes flared up from the interaction with his aura.

Seriously, I _need_ to find out why auras are starting to affect me more.

"Now," Technus said, smirking at me, "let's see how _you_ like it in the scrap heap!"

I continued to struggle, eyes completely green, but then I saw Sam and Tuck. "Anytime, Tucker!" I called out.

He was fiddling with his PDA still. "Just a few more seconds!"

For a split second, I worried that he couldn't actually do this. But then I berated myself for daring to doubt his 'mad hax0r skillz,' as he'd called them on more than one occasion, regardless of how often Sam and I told him that it was _totally_ dorky to say that out loud. He could, after all, hack my parents' computer, which was running on the same system as government computers.

But I couldn't help grumbling, "Great, I'm about to be killed fully and my best friend is playing Solitaire." Or Tetris. Or Space Invaders. Or Plants Vs. Zombies.

...He's got a _lot_ of games on those things, y'know.

Sam chose that moment to run her own form of interference. "Hi," she called up to the ghost (who still had me trapped), "I'm Sam Manson. I don't think I caught your name?"

He grinned brightly, obviously happy to be given the chance to introduce himself yet again. "I am TECHNUS! Manipulator of Machines! Lord of All Gadgetry! Conqueror of Civilizations! Wizard of Integrated Circuitry! Master of… Master... of… Mas… ter… of…."

My brow furrowed. "What's happening?"

Tucker smirked up at me. "Portals XL is happening! The old version has absolutely _no_ _security!_" He folded his arms over his chest. "I haven't hacked into a computer so easily since the school replaced their Macs with PCs."

"I am… Technus!" Gotta give it to the guy, he's really trying to fight it. "I am… I…."

Then the computer screen went blue, a large error message flashing for a moment before all the various machines broke apart and fell to the ground. As they fell, the cherry picker finally released me, and I sighed in relief as the sclera of my eyes went back to white, a pressure I didn't realize was building behind my eyes dissipating. I drifted to the ground, grinning at Tucker.

"I could've hacked into that thing with a calculator, let alone a wireless PDA!" he claimed.

"Yeah, let's not test that, okay?" I requested, way too tired to appreciate humor.

Sam came up then, sucking up the ecto-energy that had seeped into the machines, thus ridding them of the ghost that had possessed them. With that done, she turned to us. "Nice job, guys."

I shook my head, changing back to my human side, still dressed in the overly-expensive sweatsuit. "Great. Can we go home now?"

Seeing the smirks on their faces, I realized that there was ribbing to be had.

I sighed. "Alright, get it over with."

"I didn't know Li'l Eminem had a concert this week."

"You trying out for a music video or something?"

"It's the newest back-up singer for Kanye West!"

"All you need is to start dating a female rapper, and we'll finally be the cool kids."

My eyelids dropped to half-mast in annoyance. "You guys done?"

Both pursed their lips, thinking that through. Tuck nodded, but Sam shook her head, holding up a finger. "Just one more."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. Last one."

She smirked at me. "Don't let Lancer see you wearing that. He's already on you enough about wearing a belt."

I shook my head, walking away. "Forget you guys, I take back my apology now."

They chased after me, both laughing, knowing I didn't mean it at all.

Well, maybe a _little_.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

On Monday morning, Sam and Tucker came up to me in school. "Where were you yesterday, man?" Tuck asked. "We waited for you at the Nasty Burger all day."

I sighed. "Sorry. I had to return those sweats so I could refund everybody who bought stuff in the yard sale so I could get the junk back in the shed before Dad went crazy."

Sam's eyebrows went up. "That's all the damage? Sounds like you got off easy."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, Dad's checking over every piece for 'government surveillance devices'…." I paused, biting my lip. "And I still feel really sorry about dumping you guys for the jerky popular kids. I can't really promise it won't happen again, I _am_ human, after all—"

"Half human," both said, smirking.

I rolled my eyes, continuing, "—but I know what it's like to be invisible, and I'll try to be better about wanting to fit in more."

We stopped at my locker, and I had to fight back a smirk when I saw Dash heading over to his own. Sam leaned against the locker next to mine, asking, "So, did you learn a lesson from all this?"

There was a crash from across the hall, and everyone turned to see a _huge_ pile of pastel-colored teddy bears fall out of Dash's locker. Students everywhere laughed, even as Dash yelled out, "_FENTON! YOU'RE DEAD!_"

I turned back to Sam and Tucker, beaming and saying, "One person's trash is another person's revenge!"

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

A/N: Okay. Seriously, should not have taken this long, sorry. Anyway, next will be _What You Want_. Also, as to why Danny got to know about Sam's wealth and Tucker didn't: basically, Danny was friends with Sam first, then Tuck came into their group. At first, it was more Danny hanging out with one or the other. It took a while for all three of them to consistently hang out together. As such, Sam was fine having Danny over her house (since he'd been visiting since before she began worrying about her wealth buying her friends), but she wanted to make sure Tuck was really her friend before letting him come over. The trio's past will be delved into a bit more later on in the fic, but I wanted to expand on this in particular in this chapter.

**Please let me know if there's anything in particular you want to see covered or delved deeper into in this fic. Thanks!**

Read and review, please!


	5. What You Want

A/N: So, I started this the day after posting _Attack of the Killer Garage Sale_. This chapter got done remarkably quickly, but don't expect that to be the norm.

Also, Organic Chemistry SUCKS. Avoid it at all costs. Trust me. In semi-related news, testosterone is an alcohol. Guys make a bit more sense to me now.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

If there's one thing I've learned about Tucker in the eight years I've known him, it's that he's a computer genius.

Okay, so that's pretty obvious, but still.

A close second would be that power goes very quickly to his head. We once jokingly told him he was king of our trio, and within five minutes, he made us regret even mentioning the word "king." We learned that at seven years old. My history professors later told me that my insight into slavery was very impressive when I handed in papers on the subject. They didn't believe me when I told them that I drew from my own experience.

All said, we avoided giving Tucker too much power since then.

Unfortunately, that didn't always keep him from getting it.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

It had been three weeks since we got rid of Technus. Thanksgiving had passed fairly quietly (okay, not so quietly. Our turkey came to life for the twelfth year in a row. Thirteenth out of the fourteen I'd been alive for), and the annual Amity Park Swap Meet was the Saturday after the holiday. Tuck and I had decided to go together to trade comics (ha! Told Dad I used 'em still), but Sam had come down with something after Turkey Day and had to stay home under the hawk-like, watchful eyes of her parents.

Needless to say, she was miserable, and not because she was sick.

Tucker and I browsed through the rows of stalls, not really seeing too much that interested us. "You even looking for anything?" Tuck finally asked me.

I shrugged. "I could use a new set of wheels for my skateboard."

One of his eyebrows jumped up. "When's the last time you used it?"

And now my face was bright red. "...Right. Still, better safe than sorry?"

He rolled his eyes, but we moved on to a small booth with a sign simply reading, "Boards n Stuff." I picked up a packet of wheels, thanking the vendor and heading off again.

We'd decided to just give up on looking for anything else and instead just browsed to see what all was there. Along the way, we came to a booth with a fancier sign. It proclaimed, "Mama Babazita's Mystical Oddities."

We stared at the wares she had laid out for a moment, then I felt another shiver come on as my hand drifted across the table, grazing a golden, ancient-looking lamp. I frowned, glancing around to see if there was a ghost nearby, but seeing nothing. It wasn't until Tucker nudged me that I realized my hand had gone from grazing the lamp to gripping it tightly.

I blushed again, releasing it and apologizing to Mama Babazita, who just smiled sweetly at me from under a blue scarf. "It no problem, dear. The lamp call to those it deem worthy."

...Well, _that_ didn't sound creepy _at all_.

"It yours, only twenty dollars," she continued.

I balked. "Oh, no, I really can't—I mean, I've got—" I smiled sheepishly at her, rubbing the back of my neck. "I don't have the money…."

She smirked back at me, and I couldn't help but notice that she seemed to glow a nearly neon orange. I barely kept my confusion from showing. I'd never seen an aura that color before, but I could feel a sense of mischief coming from that cold spot that held my ghost form. It didn't take me long to realize that was my ghost side's way of translating the aura's meaning to me.

...It might be bad that I was starting to think of me and my ghost side as separate….

"Mama Babazita give you special discount," she said, that odd accent coloring her broken English. "For you, only fifteen!"

I paused a moment, still feeling something in the lamp trying to reach out to me before shaking my head. "I'm sorry, I really don't have any more money on me."

Her smirk turned to a frown, and suddenly a board flew down over her booth. "Mama Babazita not open to cheapskate."

Tuck tugged me the other way, calling back, "Sorry about him, we'll just be moving on!" Once we'd gotten some distance, he turned to me, chuckling, "Way to piss off the old lady."

I scowled back. "It's not my fault she wouldn't take no for an answer!" Then I bit my lip. I could still feel that pull from the lamp….

"Dude? _Dude!_"

I jumped. "W—What? What's going on?"

Tucker was giving me a concerned look. "Your eyes glazed over," he explained. "They started to flicker green, and the whites were changing color, too."

The blush came back, and I turned my head away, rubbing at my neck again.

"Dude, what just happened?" He folded his arms over his chest. "And don't try to tell me you don't know, you're an awful liar."

Don't I know it.

"...Remember about a month ago, I told you guys I could, uh, see auras?"

He nodded, waving a hand to get me to continue.

I bit my lip. "Well, everyone seems to have 'em, but the ghosts' are more… visible? Tangible, I guess? Anyway, I get one as a ghost, too, and recently anytime I cross paths with another aura, my eyes flare up and turn all green." I glanced away again, my hand pretty much rubbing the nape of my neck raw. "...That sounds really stupid, doesn't it?"

"Naw, man," he murmured. "Why didn't you tell us about this sooner?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. I guess I've been trying to figure it out on my own first."

"Dude, just tell us next time, okay?" He laid a hand on my shoulder. "We're your friends, we wanna know this stuff."

For a moment, I just digested what he'd said. Then, I realized _Tucker was being serious_. "...Who are you and what did you do with Tucker?"

He scowled, pulling his hand off my shoulder like it burnt. "Jerk."

I grinned at him. "Yup!"

_"Mommiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeyyyyyyy y!"_

We rolled our eyes at the yelp, knowing instinctively that it wasn't an anxious call but rather the call of a child not getting their way. Only kids throwing temper tantrums can drag a word out into that many syllables.

Still, we went over to see what was going on. Apparently, a little girl was being refused some cotton candy. Her father was toting her over a shoulder while she whined at her mom, who trailed behind them. "Mommyyy, why can't I have the candy?" She kicked her little arms and legs, accidentally bumping into Mama Babazita's booth. "_I want cotton candy!_"

I shivered again as a distant, soft crashing noise met my ears, and the blue mist (that was becoming unnervingly familiar) escaped my lips.

_"So you have wished it,"_ a feminine voice echoed around us. Something inside me tightened at the sound, simultaneously wanting to hunt out the source and run from it. _"So shall it be!"_

No one seemed to have noticed the voice, other than me. But everyone noticed the tidal wave of cotton candy that spewed towards us.

My eyes went wide, and I grabbed Tucker's arm, pulling him to the side and turning us intangible so as to not be swept away in the sugary flow. Once he was safely out of the way, he nodded to me. "Do your thing, dude."

I nodded back, tugging out that cold spot within me with a slight difficulty. I frowned as I transformed, stowing that small delay in the back of my head to ponder later. Then, I flew at the cotton candy wave, trying to come up with a way to stop it.

But I didn't need to. Floating right behind the wave was a… um. Well, that's weird.

A genie.

No, really, a _genie_, a female one, with black hair that went all the way to where her feet would be if she'd had any, in a pale blue harem outfit. And very large, um, well, I think you get it. And she was smirking at the chaos.

Yep, found the one behind it.

I flew up to her, yelling out, "Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

She just grinned at me, bowing slightly. "I am Desiree, granter of your deepest desires. What is your wish?"

My eye twitched, recognizing that voice as the one that spoke earlier, and that chase-or-run instinct was more noticeable now. Still, I scowled at her. "None of your business, lady."

She pouted a bit at me, and dammit, why are girls able to look like kicked puppies? "But surely there _must_ be _something…._" She stretched a hand towards me, and the cold that I associated with my ghost form flared, my eyes flaring up as well, something deep down yelling to RUN while something equally deep and equally loud screamed back TELL HER.

I went with "run." Well, sort of. "HEY!" I yelped, backing up some. "Get away from me!" I drew a hand back, readying to punch her, but as I swung forward, I remembered always being taught not to hit a girl.

My fist stopped. My energy didn't. In a move that was reminiscent of the Lunch Lady or Technus, I watched as my aura flew from me, in the form of a blast rather than a claw dragging in some meat or electronics. Desiree went flying off from the force of the blast, and I stared down at my hand.

"What—?" There was green flaring around my hand still. "Was that… a new power?"

I slowly floated to the ground, landing next to Tucker, who asked, "Dude, what _was_ that? Some new ghost thing?"

I shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"Dude, _sweet!_ High five!"

I grinned slightly, turning and raising my hand to slap his, but my aura chose that moment to flare, and a beam shot out at his hand instead. My eyes went wide as I watched him be thrown back a couple feet. "Tuck!"

He lifted his hand, giving me a thumbs-up. "I'm good!"

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

Tucker talked Sam and I into going to the Casper High Ravens' football game that night. Just so you know how much that sucks, we're currently 50th in a 40-school division.

Yeah, we're _that_ bad.

But, sadly, I owed Nathan Jones, our school mascot, a favor, and he's called it in.

And that is how I came to be wearing the Randy Raven costume. And jumping up and down outside the locker room entrance to the field, flapping my arms around.

...And getting trampled when our team came rushing out.

I sighed as I pulled myself up, luckily feeling my ghost powers accelerate my healing so the bruises and cuts I'd just gotten vanished. "'Fill in for the mascot,'" I grumbled, rolling my eyes, "'it'll be _fun_. You'll meet _cheerleaders!_' I'm never listening to Tuck again, screw any favors I owe people…." I sighed once more. "And the cheerleaders haven't even noticed me…."

I glanced up into the stands, seeing Tucker and Sam, and debated waving at them. Then Sam stood and left, wrapped up in a blanket.

...Wait, Tuck dragged her out here while she was still sick? And he _didn't_ get a combat boot in a _very_ sensitive place? ...Sam's sicker than we thought….

But then I got hit with the chills, watching as the blue mist materialized before me and that weird feeling came over me again, like when I was being pulled towards Mama Babazita's lamp. This time, I swore I could actually _feel_ the tug, trying to drag me out onto the field—

Where Dash had just made a wish. A wish that was now being granted by that genie-ghost-harem lady. _"Your heart's desire is my command."_

I did _not_ shudder. And if I did, it was 'cause she's creepy. Not something else (and like completely opposite). Nope. No way.

And then Dash was this huge, glowing, green monster. Huh, like the Hulk, but a jock instead of a doctor.

...Wait a second, weren't his abilities from a portal, too? ...I guess I should've seen this half-ghost thing coming….

Anyway, now I have to stop a gigantic, green Hulk-like beast that's actually Dash.

I smirked. _Revenge!_

Then I remembered I was kinda conspicuous right now, and people would notice if I just up and disappeared. So I ran over to Tucker. "Dude, I need your help," I said immediately, watching out the corner of my eye as Dash began annihilating the other team, single-handedly.

Tucker grinned. "To kick some ghost ass?"

Well…. "Kind of."

He punched the air. "I. Am. In!"

"Great!" I exclaimed, wiggling off the raven head and starting to shrug out of the rest of the costume, then handing it to Tucker. "Here! Thanks!" And I flew off towards the ghost.

I floated above Dash, trying to figure out how to fix this wish. It wasn't like with the cotton candy, where I could just wait it out and it would vanish, and Desiree had already flown off, so I couldn't even attack her to end the wish.

So, I went with my instincts. I dove into Dash once again, feeling around for the strange aura linked to Desiree and plucked it out. Sure enough, the shade I held was still Hulk-ish and green, but Dash had shrunk back down to normal (for him).

"Huh?" He glanced around, looking as he did right after I'd overshadowed him before, and I realized he was completely out of it when he was the monster. "Uh, hike?"

...Okay, so I didn't really get revenge, but watching the entirety of the other team harshly sack then dog-pile on Dash was _definitely_ satisfying. Who cares if our team loses _again_, Dash got beat up instead of me!

The Hulk thing snarled, and I quickly shook myself back to the situation at hand and sucked the thing into the Thermos (which I'd managed to fix after the Weasel killed it). Sighing, I decided screw watching the game and flew home.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

I've said it before and I'll say it again. My parents have their moments.

For instance, the Thermoses they made? They have a release switch that expels any ghosts caught inside. Now, that's not exactly the brightest idea normally, since the Thermos is really small and the ghosts would be really pissed from being caught to begin with, but Mom and Dad had figured out a way around that. They had installed a slot on the Portal's lock-down panel where you could insert the lid of the Thermos and eject any caught ghosts straight into the Ghost Zone.

This is what I used to dump the Hulk ghost from the Thermos. The Portal was already open, so I watched as the Hulk spun away into the distance. That done, I turned to head upstairs and found myself going through what felt like a centimeter-thick barrier of water.

And suddenly I was dropping straight down, gravity pulling me in a way I hadn't since before the Portal accident. I smashed down onto the lab floor, banging my knees in the process and feeling my elbows bend a bit too far back. Wincing at the dual pains and realizing they weren't fading as quickly as they should, I turned over and glanced up, finding myself face-to-face with glowing green eyes under white hair.

I crab-walked backwards for a moment, barely keeping myself from yelling in surprise at the fact that _my ghost half was floating above me!_

"Wha—?" we both said.

Then the ghost me startled before diving back into me. We merged together fairly effortlessly, with just a lingering pain reminiscent of the accident itself. I noticed a faint glow around me for a second before it died down, then felt a migraine come on as Phantom's memories of that short time apart blended with my own. He'd heard someone moving in a tent over in the corner of the lab, thus the sudden reemergence.

Sure enough, when I glanced back, I saw my parents folding back the flap to what looked suspiciously like a tepee. Both of them looked grayed-out and were sweating with the illness they'd come down with last night. Dad sniffled, rubbing at his nose while Mom tilted her head, brow furrowed, at me. "Danny?" she mumbled through a stuffed nose. "What're you doing down here?"

"Um…" I tried to come up with an excuse, but all that came out was, "Am I interrupting something? ...That I hope I'm not?"

Now Mom sniffled. "No, honey, we're purifying ourselves from any negative ghost energy we may have picked up while working in the lab."

Dad sneezed, rubbed his nose again, and added, "We're ridding our systems of any viral ghosts through the Fenton Ghost Catcher."

I glanced back at the watery-like thing that had split me. Sure enough, it was a giant, black ghost catcher on a stand, glowing a faint green from the bright white strings. I shivered just from being near it, feeling the sheer _amount_ of anti-ecto energy that it gave off. With a wince, I stepped away from it.

"It's like an Indian dream catcher but it expels ghosts instead of dreams, you see," Dad finished, then sniffled again.

One of my brows jumped up at that. "Um, couldn't you have just caught a _normal_ disease, not a ghost one?"

They paused a moment, then both of them frowned, heading up the stairs, Dad mumbling, "_I remember when _I_ was that naïve…._"

Once they were gone, I turned back to the Ghost Catcher, studying it for a moment, forcing back the fearful aura it exuded, then reached out. My hand inched towards the netting, and as I touched it, I felt my hand go through that pane of water again. On the other side of the Catcher, two images of my hand appeared, one gloved and one not.

I tugged my hand back to my body, shivering once more. Okay, this one works a little _too_ well.

...I'm filing it under must avoid.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

The next day, Tucker and I headed over to the mail to catch _Dead Teacher IV_. Before we went in for the movie, though, Tuck mentioned checking in with Sam.

I called her up, and for the first couple minutes of the call, Sam complained and sneezed. "Hang in there, Sam," I told her, "we'll come visit after we're done at the mall. Do you want us to get you anything?"

I steadfastly ignored Tucker's kissy face while Sam replied. _"No, don't bother. My parents are taking—ACHOO!—pretty good care of me."_ She muffled the phone for a second, but I could still hear her. _"Seriously, guys, it's _just_ a cold!"_

_"_**_CLEAR!_**_"_

That one Tucker could hear. We both blinked at the phone. "Uh… Sam? You okay?"

I could practically _hear_ her roll her eyes. _"I'm fine. Just an over-eager med student…. He's interning with the doctor Dad hired to come look after me."_

Chuckling, I said, "Okay. We'll see you in a bit. Try not to kill anyone?"

_"No promises."_

We hung up, then Tucker and I went in to get our tickets. I sighed. "She must be _really_ sick if she's missing _Dead Teacher IV_."

"'This time, it's personal!'" Tuck quoted. "Don't worry, man, we'll go visit your girlfriend after the movie."

I jabbed him in the stomach for that, rolling my eyes.

Off to the side, I could hear some girls fawning over the Sayonara Pussycat movie poster, but I really didn't care enough to pay attention.

That is, until suddenly everyone was fawning over one of those girls. The shivers wracked through me, not condensing into a mist this time, though. Tuck and I looked over at the movie poster, seeing a tiny-bodied, large-headed Paulina.

...My life just became an anime.

There was a crowd following her now. All of them were praising her, telling her how much they loved her.

"...Paulina?" Tuck and I both gaped.

Then the PA system rang out. _"Attention, movie-goers! The Amity Park Mall is officially declaring this Happy Fabulous Paulina Day!"_

"...Oh, boy…." I groaned. This can't be good.

And it wasn't. Paulina turned to her audience, saying, "I don't know what to say! Why should I squander my popularity here? I'm so cute and adorable, I bet I could become _Super Fairy Queen of All Teenagerdom!_" As she said this, she grew.

And grew.

And grew.

And suddenly we were all staring up at a fifty-foot, anime-fied, half-cat Paulina. "Isn't that _luscious?_" she purred.

The crowd all cheered. I think she could've said she was going to bite off each of their heads and they still would've cheered.

My brows turned down as I glared over at her, now able to see the glowing aura around her that was slowly darkening to something sinister. "Tucker, I—"

He passed me the Thermos, muttering, "Do what you gotta do. I'll get us seats." As he walked away, I barely noticed a streak of dark green going through his normally bright aura.

I filed that away for later, then turned towards Paulina, transforming and flying at her. We phased down into the basement, where I let go of her and we faced off.

"Hi!" she said happily. "I'm Paulina! I'm cute, swell, and full of big-headed anime goodness!"

Yeah, I'm fairly certain that, were she here, Sam would have something to say about the "big-headed" comment.

"...Bye bye, kitty," I replied, blasting the anime cat out of Paulina.

It was a green version of Sayonara Pussycat. ...And I swear Jazz is the reason I know that.

"Hi! Isn't everything in the world sweet, and wonderful, and—"

I used that moment to turn on the Thermos and pull it in. It disappeared with a long, drawn-out meow. I grinned, capping the Thermos and exclaiming, "Cool! It worked! Wait 'til Tuck hears about this!" Then I flew back up through the ceiling and into the theater, glancing around for my friend.

Huh. He wasn't there. But the place was packed, so I was probably just missing him.

So I found a seat and watched the movie.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

And it was _good!_ Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. There is _nothing_ better than a good, old-fashioned zombie thriller.

Though there was a slight interruption a few minutes in when an audience member got decked by another….

Anyway, as I left the theater, I got hit yet again by the chills. With a sigh, I looked around, seeing Desiree fly off again. I scowled after her. "Geez, lady, can't you take a break?"

Then, a car flew past.

And did a loop-de-loop.

_At fifty feet above me._

So I ran behind a ticket kiosk and transformed. Again. Then I flew after the flying car, really wanting to make a Harry Potter reference but seeing no train or violent tree in sight.

Darn.

I pulled up next to the car, yelling in the window at the surfer-dude driver. "Yo! Slow down, Jeff Gordon! You're going over the speed limit!" I glanced down for a second, then added, "And the height limit!"

But the dude just kept screaming, and his car took off again. I started to follow it, then Tuck flew past me, saying, "Don't sweat it, dude, I got this one."

I was still nodding after he'd flown by, then my brain caught up with me. My forward momentum died, and I found myself floating in the air, staring after him. "Wait, _Tucker, flying?_"

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

Shocks like that usually take a decent amount of time to snap out of. I spent almost a full minute just hovering there, then I shook my head to clear it and took off.

It only took a couple minutes to catch up with them, hearing Tucker tell the surfer, "Chill, dude, Tucker Phantom's on the case!"

I phased into the car, scowling at him. "Okay, ignoring how _original_ that name is, what are you _doing_ here?"

"Ghost powers, duh," he replied, grinning.

I blinked. Okay, walked into that one. "But _how?_"

"Who cares? Now, if you'll excuse me," he reached over to grab the steering wheel, "I've got some heroic exploits to attend to!"

My eyes went wide. There was _no way_ he was going to try this! He couldn't even drive in video games! I lunged forward to grab the wheel as well. "Dude, we're too young to drive!"

The car did another flip, and I was flung into the backseat again. We all screamed as an office building loomed up before us, and neither Tuck nor the surfer dude knew how to control the car. Thinking quick, I grabbed onto the seat, channeling my intangibility through it and the entire vehicle. We phased straight through the building, and once we were past it, I dropped the intangibility, sighing in relief.

Tuck glanced back at the building when he stopped screaming, then glared at me. "Oh, sure, phase the car through the building. You just _had_ to save the day, didn't you?"

...Duh?

"Uh, yeah?" I shot back. "Because a car crashing into the twenty-eighth floor of _anything_ is _bad!_"

Tuck's eyes narrowed even more at me, but before he could respond, the surfer did. "Yo, hallucinations, _focus!_"

We both turned to see what the guy was pointing at, and this time I couldn't activate my powers quick enough to stop us from smashing through a large red silo.

Luckily, we weren't hurt. Unluckily, the place _stank_. It was like pickles and sauerkraut put together but _worse_. The car tumbled through and out of the silo, forcing open the doors and causing all the stinky hay to fall out with us. I phased out of the stuff in time to see a curious chicken wander over and start pecking at the stuff before it was lifted up by the surfer, whose head was covered in hay. He glanced up and grinned. "Chyeah, there's a chicken on my head!" And he happily walked away.

By then, Tuck had also phased himself free of the hay and was glaring at me again. "You always have to steal the spotlight, don't you?"

"_What?_" I gaped.

"You're jealous that I'm better at this ghost thing than you!"

I was _so_ close to screaming at him. "I am _not_ jealous! This is stupid! You're my best friend!"

He floated up, still glaring at me. "This town's big enough for more than one ghost kid. We'll see just who's best." Then he turned and took off, leaving behind a trail of his dark green aura as he shot off at close to 200 miles per.

"Woah," I gasped after him. I can't fly _that_ fast.

...Was he getting more powerful?

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

Before school the next morning, I found myself sniffling. I groaned, moving into the bathroom to see bags starting to form under my eyes. "Great," I sighed, "I'm catching everyone's colds…."

I'm half-ghost, dammit, shouldn't I be immune or something?

But Mom and Dad wouldn't let me skip since I didn't have a fever (darn you, ghost powers, for lowering my temperature!), so I had to rush to get there before classes began so I could talk some sense into Tucker.

I found him playing pranks on Lancer. He'd apparently been waiting for the teacher/sub/vice principal to get a drink from one of the water fountains and turned the faucet so it hit him full-on in the face. Then, he took the man's belt, undid his tie, and pulled down his pants.

And now I'd like brain bleach, please. No student should _ever_ have to see their teacher's boxers.

Tucker was standing behind a wall, laughing at the man along with all the other students.

"Nice trick," I said as I came up behind him. "Do you do kids' parties, too?"

He rolled his eyes as he turned around, his aura much fainter now. "Dude, relax, I'm just having fun." Then, he got a good look at me and his eyes went wide, some actual concern showing through. "Dude, you okay? You look horrible."

I sniffled. "I think I might be catching Sam's cold." And Mom's. And Dad's. And Jazz's, since she also got sick last night and found out by sneezing on me.

...Yeah, I'm blaming Jazz.

I shook my head to clear it. "But that's not important right now. Tucker, we need to—"

He held up his hands. "No need. You can do the superhero thing on your own." He winked, holding up his hand like a gun. "I'm just in this for the kicks."

"I was afraid of that." I sighed. "Look, Tuck, you're my friend, and I hate to do this to you, but," I placed a hand on his shoulder, "I need to see what's going on inside of you, and there's only one way to do that."

Having said that, I turned intangible and dove into him. For a moment, I had shocked him enough that he didn't do anything to stop me.

But then he got over the surprise. Suddenly, where there had been room for me to sneak in, it was filled with an overpowering amount of that dark green from his aura. I tried to fight it back so I could see what had caused him to get these powers, but it was just too strong.

I was flung back out of him and into the janitor's closet, landing in a bucket, a mop falling onto my head and stunning me for a moment as Tuck pulled open the door and glared down at me, eyes glowing a bright red.

"_Never_ do that _again_," he snarled. "Get it?"

"Got it," I mumbled.

"Good." Then he turned and slammed the door shut on me.

I just sat there for a while, trying to figure out a way to bring back my friend, but in order to do that, I had to find out how he'd gotten those powers in the first place.

Basically, I was stuck until he spilled.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

By the end of the school day, there were tons of rumors about how crazy things had been today. Stories about floating trays at lunch and soda randomly appearing in a band member's tuba, and teacher's class notes going missing, causing classes to turn into study halls.

Three guesses who caused all these things, and the first two don't count.

So, I tried to hunt down Tucker once classes let out for the day. I found him, having followed the shivers to where they were strongest, hiding behind a telephone pole, his green aura glowing, showing he was in his version of ghost-mode.

And he was staring at Paulina.

"Oh, no…."

Sure enough, he turned intangible and dove into her, making her eyes glow red. I walked over, and she smirked at me. "Just so you know," she said in Tucker's voice, "I'm going to start dating Tucker Foley. He's _so_ much cooler than _you_." Her hands went to her hips. "So, stop chasing me."

I rolled my eyes. "Tucker, get out of there."

He crossed his arms over his—er, her?—chest. "Why don't you _make_ me?"

I dropped my books, glaring at him. "Fine! I will!" Then I dove in as well.

If I thought it was an odd feeling to overshadow someone before, it's even odder when _two_ ghosts overshadow the same person. I could see the dark green that was Tucker, along with a pink that was probably Paulina herself, but it was shrunk down and hidden back behind the green.

...This is just _weird_.

But I managed to shove the green to the side long enough to make myself heard. "Tucker, you're turning the whole _school_ upside-down! How about giving it a break?"

Then the green pushed back. "How about getting off my back?" he shot back at me. That's about when I realized we were yelling at each other _through_ Paulina. In other words, the whole school was watching Paulina argue with herself. "Just let me have a little fun!"

I forced the green away again. "Your _fun_ is kinda _mean!_ Dude, you made Lancer think he was crazy and almost sent another kid to the nurse when he choked on that soda! Now, _Get. Out. Of. Paulina!_"

And once again, I was shoved to the side. "No, _you_ go!"

I got control back just long enough to yell at him, "_You!_"

Then I was shoved and scrunched back into a corner like the pink was. "_No!_ Babazita's genie gave me these powers, and I'll use 'em how I _want!_"

And now the green threw me out as it had before. I scowled, transformed, and flew into the air. "Then maybe I should have a talk with Babazita."

As I flew off, Tuck yelled out, "_Fine!_ But you and I aren't friends anymore, Danny Fenton!"

For a moment, I thought that was it, since Paulina looked like she was back to herself again. But then she noticed the stares and added, "_And I never was friends with you!_"

...Yeah, I know. Sheesh, no need to rub it in….

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

Luckily, the Amity Park Swap Meet was several days long. I headed back to Mama Babazita's booth.

"Oh, it the cheapskate," she huffed when she saw me.

Awesome, she remembers me.

"Um, yeah, sorry 'bout that…." I rubbed the back of my neck. "I, um, made sure to bring money this time."

Now she grinned brightly at me. "Ah! Not so cheap today, eh?"

"Uh, no?"

She leaned in closer to me. "What Mama Babazita do for you? Many magics here. All for good price!"

I bit my lip. "Actually, could you tell me more about the lamp?"

Her eyes widened for a moment, then she grabbed the golden container and showed it off again. "_This_ lamp, you mean?"

I nodded eagerly. It wasn't as loud now, but it still was tugging me towards it. "Yes! Can you tell me about it?"

She smirked. "The story of this lamp goes back many ages. They say powerful sultan knew harem girl, name Desiree, and was in love with her. He promise her her heart's desire, kingdom of her own. But, sultan had wife, _very_ jealous. She banish Desiree, send her far away, out into desert. There, harem girl was cursed, sentenced to life of genie, and locked in this lamp." Another tug caused my hand to twitch towards it, and Babazita smirked again when she saw that. "They say Desiree die of broken heart, but truth that she never really die at all."

So, she's not a ghost?

"The genie curse turned her. Never die, just locked away for all eternity. But, every so often, one is called to her lamp, and she is freed to grant desires. She grants all she hears, but at great personal cost, as the lamp can not guarantee it calls to those who would take Desiree."

...Wait, _what?_

"Huh?"

She grinned. "Lamp tries to find one Desiree will love. Lamp wishes to fulfill Desiree's desire as she fills others'."

My eyes went wide. "But—But—"

She seemed to take pity on me and spelled it out even simpler. "Lamp sees something in you Desiree would like. So, it calls to you. Wants you to match up with Desiree."

A _lamp_ was playing matchmaker with _me?_ ...Just when I thought my life couldn't get any weirder….

"But… she's, like, ancient! I'm just a teenager! How could it think—?"

Babazita shrugged. "Desiree only eighteen when banished and cursed."

...Holy hell, _that_ was _eighteen?_

"But—"

She shoved the lamp into my hands. "Lamp yours. No pay. It want you, it can have you, cheapskate." Then the board came down over her booth again.

Well, I've got a lamp, a Thermos, and a quarter. Time to go catch me a wishing ghost.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

I headed straight to the center of our park, knowing that there'd been a wishing well put in about five years ago there. After all, what better place to find a wishing _ghost_ than at a wishing _well_.

After arriving, I flipped the coin into the fountain. I waited a few seconds, but nothing happened. "Dammit…." I turned, sniffling again and rubbing at my nose, before beginning to head out.

As I walked, someone else came up to the well. I heard him flip a coin, saying, "I wish I had a million bucks."

Then came the shivers, and I realized I'd forgotten to actually _wish_ for something. Duh.

I spun around as a green mist circled around the man, Desiree's voice echoing, _"So you have wished it, so shall it be."_

With a quick transformation, I lunged over, pulling the man free of the mist. "Oh, no, you don't!"

The mist formed into Desiree, who looked like she couldn't choose between smirking and scowling at me. "Young intruder!" she exclaimed. "You dare interfere with my spell-binding?"

The man decided to run off, whimpering, "Money isn't everything!"

For a second, the two of us stared after him, then I shook my head to clear it. "Look, Desiree, I want you to take away Tucker's ghost powers!"

She frowned, crossing her arms, her nose turning up. "I will _not_. By noon tomorrow, your friend's fate will be sealed!" Then, she noticed the lamp, and her eyes widened for a moment. "What—?" She glared back at me. "What are _you_ doing with my lamp?"

I blinked at her. "Huh?" She pointed, and I glanced back at it. "Oh, that. Babazita gave it to me."

"_What?_" Desiree shrieked, her hands turning to claws. She swiped at me, and I barely dodged.

"Woah!"

"I _trusted_ Babazita to _protect_ my lamp! And she just _gave_ it to you?" She kept swinging.

Luckily, I kept dodging. "She only gave it to me 'cause it was calling to me!"

And suddenly the attacks stopped. "It… what?"

I stared up at Desiree, who was staring at me, red eyes wide. "It… it called to me. I hadn't even realized at first until Tuck nudged me and I saw I'd grabbed it."

"You? It called to _you?_"

Okay, not sure why we're still stuck on _that_. "Um, yeah?"

"Why?" she shrieked. "You are but a child!"

I glared at her. "Hey, I'm only four years younger than you!"

Now she was scowling again and swiped her claws at me, this time catching me in the stomach. Green blood gooped out for a second before the slash healed. "_She told you my age?!_"

I rolled my eyes. "Seriously, why is that such a sore spot with girls?" Then I yelped when she sliced me again.

"_She will be punished for her insolence!_"

Before Desiree could fly away, I yelled at her, "But what about my friend?"

She turned back to me, glaring even more. "Your _friend_ will soon be the strongest ghost in the world. His jealousy and anger will transform into rage and hatred."

I blinked. "Tuck? He's not _that_ jealous! ...Is he?"

She smirked at me. "More than you know. And when it turns to rage, he'll wish to _kill_ the one who made him _feel_ that jealousy, _you!_"

As she turned to fly away, I grabbed her tail. "_You change him _**_back!_**"

She looked back at me, snarling, "You _dare_ to lay a _hand_ on _me?_" Her hand formed a claw again. "No man may lay a hand on me unless _I_ wish it!"

Screw whatever my parents said about hitting a girl.

"Oh, yeah? How about a _fist?_" I punched at her, but she just went through it before swiping at me again. I dodged around it, but that gave her the chance to turn her other hand into a lasso and wrap me up.

And then I was flying—and crashing—into a bench. She came at me, but I blasted her back again, feeling a slight drain on my energy from using my aura like that.

Definitely need to practice that one.

As she landed in a heap, I flew over cautiously. When I landed, she glanced up, then smirked, a hand turning giant and trapping me to the ground.

I squirmed, trying to break free, but nothing would work. If I went intangible, so did she, and there was absolutely no wiggle room.

She just smirked down at me. "You can't do _anything_ unless _I_ wish it!"

But then I spotted the Thermos, laying right above me. "Or _I_ do!" I reached out with the one hand that was loose and shook the cap off. "I wish you'd disappear inside this Thermos!"

Her eyes went wide. "What? _NO!_" Her hand retracted and shrunk back to normal size. "I—I—!" The beam began to pull her in, and she forced out, "_So you have wished it!_" before she vanished inside.

As I capped the Thermos, I sighed—which turned into a sneeze—then rolled my eyes. "Wish I'd done that three days ago…."

I glanced around, seeing that the place had been deserted after our fight, and spotted the lamp, laying innocently on the ground. I walked towards it, still feeling the pull from it, and picked it up. "...I guess… it wouldn't hurt to keep this… just in case."

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

The next day, I tried to hunt Tucker down. It wasn't until halfway through fourth period (aka 11:45) that I found him. Frankly, it was all too easy. I just followed the chills to the records room, where he was changing his grades to all A's. Not that he didn't already have them in Computers and Home Ec, but now he was well-rounded.

"Tuck!" I exclaimed. "You're changing your grades? That's cheating!" And cheating is a bad, bad thing. I know this because Sam beat it into me at a young age. Apparently, she didn't do the same to Tuck.

Lucky….

He turned around in his chair. "I like to think of it as academic enrichment." He smirked. "Want me to do yours?"

Yes.

"No!" I reached towards him, saying, "Tucker, you're in real danger, here!"

Then, his green aura flared, and his skin turned green, his eyes glowing bright red, and his ears pointed like an elf's. He snarled at me.

I pulled my hands back in, holding them before me in a surrendering gesture. "Woah, take it easy! We're _friends_, remember?"

Please, remember….

He scowled at me. "We're only friends on _your_ terms, but now, _I_ make the rules around here!"

And cue flashback to the short-lived King Tuck fiasco.

"And my first rule is, _no more Danny Phantom!_"

He blasted me through two walls and into the chemistry room's blackboard. Crap. He's getting more malevolent, more ghost-like. Then Tuck flew in through the wall, and I stood up slowly. "Tuck, please! You need to listen to me! There isn't much time!"

Especially since it was now about ten to twelve.

"You got _that_ right," he said, charging up another blast. "Your time is up!"

And there's a _huge_ blast coming at me. I flew up, doing a lap of the ceiling before landing behind Tuck and, in a stall for time, flipping his hat off his head. Then, I dove behind the counters as he shot at me again. Beakers flew around me, getting blasted to pieces that barely missed me as I ran.

While he paused to put his hat back on, I flung the model skeleton at him, but he just turned intangible, glaring again. "Is that the best you can do?"

Ducking down behind the counter to avoid another blast, I sighed. "Unfortunately, yeah. I can't get through to him!" How was I supposed to get rid of his powers if I couldn't get him to listen to me?

...Wait. This could work.

I flew back up, yelling to him, "Catch me if you can, _Sucker_ Phantom!" Then I dove down through the floor, waving at him with a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin.

Which I knew he hated.

_"It's _**_Tucker _**_Phantom! _**_Tucker!_**_"_

He always _did_ hate that nickname.

But by then I'd reached my destination and hid. He phased through a moment later, glancing around. "The girl's locker room," he said before grinning. "So _this_ is what it's like in here!"

I chose that moment to blindfold him with a bra, tug him through a wall into the gym, and dunk him in the basketball net. While he recovered, I checked the time.

Five to twelve.

Crap.

"Ha!" I called to him, still trying to bait him. "You got no game!"

He stood, then his aura flared again.

And I thought the Hulk was bad. What he turned into was almost as big, and his eyes were now solid red, no pupils. His aura, which up to now had been that dark green, turned to a blood red.

Damn.

I spun and ran—er, flew—at my top speed towards my house, hoping I'd get there in time. Sure enough, he chased me, but froze when I went invisible.

Huh, so he can't see invisible ghosts.

"Where are you?" he screamed. "_Where?_"

I appeared behind him, arms crossed. "What's wrong?" I asked him as he turned to me. "Can't catch what you can't see?"

He lunged at me, but I just disappeared again, zooming towards home. I let go of my invisibility as I floated above the OpsCenter. "Where is he?" I wondered. He _has_ to have followed me…. "It's almost noon…."

"Yo!"

I spun, coming face-to-face with angry Tucker. "What's the dizzle, Fizzle?"

…What.

He grabbed me while I was still surprised, and we flew down into the lab. "No!" I yelled in what I hoped didn't sound fake fear. "Don't throw me into the Ghost Zone!"

For a moment, we were both frozen, then he grinned. "I wasn't going to, but that's a _great_ idea!"

Yup. And this time it was planned.

He started to drag me towards it, but then came something that _wasn't_ planned.

I sneezed.

He let go of me, his nose wrinkling up. "Aw, _gross!_ Cover your face when you sneeze, dude!"

But I was already blasting him through the Ghost Catcher.

As he passed through the netting, the snarling, Hulk-ish ghost version of him separated out from Tucker himself. Tuck stared up at the rabid ghost, gaping. "Is—Is that… me?"

I sucked it into the Thermos, sniffling some and rubbing at my nose after I'd capped the device. "No, Tuck, it's _not_ you. Not any more."

He walked over to me, not making eye contact. "Dude, I'm sorry, I—I couldn't control myself."

I sniffled again. "Dude, don't worry about it. You were under—ACHOO!—" I rubbed at my nose "—the genie's spell, and you broke it." Well, _we_ broke it, but still.

He bit his lip. "Yeah, but none of this would have happened if I wasn't so jealous."

I blushed a bit, rubbing the back of my neck. "Or if I'd been less of a show-off around you." Then I held out my hand. "Friends?"

He grabbed it, grinning. "The best."

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

Of course, all that said and done, we both ended up sick as dogs the next day. Good news, we got to skip school. Bad news, we both felt like we were gonna die.

I now feel _very_ sorry for dragging Sam to the game on Saturday.

Tuck was writing in his PDA, and I glanced over at it. _"Digital Journal, Wednesday. They say be careful what you wish for."_

I rolled my eyes. "Duh."

He smirked at me, elbowing me in the side, but added, _"To that, I'd like to add a big, fat, 'Duh.'"_

I didn't see what else he wrote, because at that point, we both sneezed. Sam walked over with a tray of soup for both of us. "Geez," she said, rolling her eyes, "do you two have to share _everything?_"

Tuck and I shared a grin before I told her, "You don't know the half of it."

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

A/N: Okay, so, as much as I complain about my college work, I'm finally taking classes I'm _interested in_. You have no idea how excited I was to find out we're essentially raising chickens in my Animal Nutrition Lab. I get the little fluff this next week, and we'll be monitoring their growth for a month. Also, it was extremely hard for me to not geek out over the car-driving-into-the-silo scene, since we studied silage when I was writing it. I literally had to tell myself, "Danny's into NASA, not animals. He would NOT know that the silo was full of half-fermented silage, not hay. Nor would he know the term feedstuffs." (His line about the "hay" smelling like pickles and sauerkraut is very true. Silage smells very funky. The more fermented, the harsher the smell.) Likewise, since animals do NOT live in silos (seriously, where did that idea come from?), I had to rationalize a way for there to be a chicken on the dude's head.

So, paraphrasing that paragraph, I'm an ani-geek. :D

AND OMG, I GOT A JOB AT PETCO! Admittedly this means less time to be writing, but still! My first job, and it's gonna be at a pet store! YAY! So, don't expect another chapter as quick as this one came out, though I will admit, there's a specific reason why I _cannot wait_ to get to work on the next chappy, which will be _Splitting Images_.

Um, so, read and review please? Kaythanksbye.


	6. Splitting Images

A/N: God, this one's a beast. I had no clue it'd end up being this long when I started, but given certain things I've added into the story at this point, I should've expected it. Anyways, have fun reading this monster.

Okay, so you guys know how things work with me, I currently have half-started chapters of _Missing Someone You've Never Met, Zeus' Dice, Falling Is Easy, _and_ Don't Believe the Lie_ that are being worked on sporadically as inspiration hits me (_DBtL_ inspiration mostly leading to being pre-written, the others are actually either being converted from IM format or, like this story, written largely on the fly). This story kinda deviates from my normal have-everything-written-out-before-posting mode of writing, so updates may have delays due to making sure everything is still working out correctly and I'm not accidentally creating plot holes. (By the way, if anyone notices a developing plot hole, please tell me!)

If you're ever curious as to what's taking so long with updating or what'll be posted next, check out my Twitter account, ElphieBLW. It's normally updated every few days or so (when I'm not bogged down by schoolwork [curse you, college!]), so that'll be the most accurate source.

Also, for those who were concerned/interested in the developing DannyxDesiree that cropped up last chapter, this fic isn't going to be focusing on any one pairing in particular. In fact, this is sorta going to leave it so any pairing is a possible "canon" pairing. Danny's a teen and telling the story, so it's highly likely that the pairings will shift as he grows/matures. Though, I will admit, him keeping the lamp was not something I'd been planning on, but it's definitely causing a ripple effect on future plot lines, Memory Blank's, in particular. As it is, MB will only vaguely resemble canon at this point, just from the sheer amount of differences already.

So, now onto the newest chapter, where you shall see several large changes from canon. Mostly on how ghost-on-ghost overshadowing works, and Poindexter's backstory, since I'm largely an angst writer and that had SO MUCH ANGST POTENTIAL.

As a note: **do not take anything in the first section personally. I don't condone any type of bullying, and I certainly don't like to even mention it when I don't have to. I also don't condone racism, and I'm part German myself, so I don't mean any offense to anyone reading.** It's all just for backstory, I in no way share those feelings against anyone. I also do not share Tucker's view of teachers. I have a huge respect for them, seeing as they have to 1) deal with us kids and 2) work pretty much nonstop but only get paid for the 9-5 part. (My dad's a retired teacher and my mom just retired from being a teacher's aide. I remember the amount of time it takes for grading papers and doing lesson plans very well.) Also, a **warning: this chapter mentions suicide and thoughts of suicide. If that makes you uncomfortable, get out now.**

And don't forget that the contest's still on about how Kirkshire was named. Winners get minor OC's!

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

Every school has its legend. Most are just stories, told so many times, people believe them to be true. Some are real.

Our legend was real.

There was this kid, Sydney Poindexter, who was part of the Class of 1953. He was, frankly, a classic nerd. Glasses, pocket protector, Urkel pants, the works. The school jocks spent most of their days picking on him, giving him swirlies and wedgies, and shoving him into his locker.

It's said he was shoved in there so often, part of him still lives on in Locker 724.

But as the years went on and it came closer and closer to his graduation, the bullying got worse. The school had survived the war only to find that the students couldn't let it go yet. Bullies picked on Germans or the Japanese even worse than they did others. Poindexter still got the brunt of it, but they made time for the "losers" of the war.

And then they found out that Poindexter was one half German.

Suddenly, it wasn't enough to just tease him and occasionally shove his head in a toilet. No, they gave him special treatment. They would steal his clothes while he showered after gym or tie him up to the goal posts on the football field and leave him there overnight.

Then, they took it a step further. Overnight, they papered the whole school with posters of Poindexter in a Nazi uniform. The next day, he was ridiculed by everyone in the school, even teachers, for being a Nazi. The jocks didn't need any encouragement to continue their torture, but they got it, anyway. Everyone was suggesting how they could punish him for "following Hitler," and by the end of the day, they had made a plan.

They knew where he lived, so that night, under the cover of a heavy rainstorm, after he'd gone to bed, they snuck into his house and took him. He was dragged out into the forest behind the school, tied up to a tree, and left there.

He wasn't found for two days. The bullies had forgotten where they'd hidden him, so they were able to deny knowing anything when the police questioned them. They were never punished for what they did.

And Poindexter couldn't stand it.

They say he went out and got a gun. They say that the police later found a hit list with the names of everyone who'd been involved in kidnapping him. They say he was going to shoot up the whole school for what they'd done to him.

But he didn't.

Instead, he went back out to the forest. He found the tree he'd been tied to. He scratched his initials into the bark, then sat against the tree and ate a bullet.

To this day, no one has so much as touched Locker 724. No one's seen the inside of it since he died, for fear that opening it would release his vengeful spirit on the school that tormented him, and it was supposed to stay that way.

Until I needed a new locker, and 724 was the only one available.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

Tuck and I got roped into helping Sam with a "Save the Frogs" protest. She'd had this idea to go out and buy a ton of mechanical frogs for the biology dissection labs so no "poor, innocent frogs" had to be killed for science.

Only Sam could come up with a way to use her parents' money for her own agendas.

_I bet she can come up with other things, too._

I forced down a blush at the thought. So, taking that lamp may not have been the smartest idea. Somehow, it had developed the ability to communicate with me telepathically.

_It? I am __**male**__, for your information! And my __**name**__ is Samir, thank you for asking!_

...I'm totally going insane….

I shook my head though to clear it. "Seriously, Sam, what's the point of this?" I asked, nodding at the boxes we were all carrying.

She set down her own box, pulling it open and tugging out a mechanical frog. "It's not _fair_ that all those frogs are killed just so we can dissect them in biology. Instead, we should be using these _mechanical_ frogs that are specifically _designed_ for dissection and biological studies! Think of what would happen if schools across America started using these!" She turned on us, one hand on her hip and the other waving the mechanical frog at us. "Nearly a _third_ of all the 6,485 frog species known to man are close to being endangered because of us dissecting them for science! Does that seem _right_ to _you?_"

Tuck and I both dropped our boxes, raising our hands in the classic "I surrender" pose at her glare. "Dude," Tuck said, "I'm all for avoiding dissections. Save the speech for the rest of the school, huh?" I nodded emphatically, too scared to actually speak up.

Hey, you'd be scared, too, if you knew how hard those combat boots can be when she kicks you with them.

_That's not the __**only**__ thing that's—_

WOAH, okay, stopping you _right_ there! Dude, seriously, _really_ regretting grabbing the lamp.

_Samir!_

Samir, whatever.

Sam sighed as I finally focused back on my friends. "I guess you guys are right." Then she leaned over, picking up her box and motioning for us to do the same. "C'mon, let's just get these—"

And cue the chills, though luckily I didn't get the fog breath. Huh. Wonder why.

_This ghost is not as strong as the hunter or my mistress._

...Okay, maybe not so much regretting keeping Samir.

_Thank you!_

While distracted by Samir, one of the boxes glowed bright blue before an equally blue ghost burst out of it.

"Great," I groaned upon seeing who it was, "_him_ again!"

And sure enough, the Box Ghost declared his return and intent for "corrugated cardboard vengeance." Seriously, where does he get off having such a highly developed vocabulary when he's a write-off?

I let the rings of light wash over me, eyes glowing a bright green when I opened them again, then floated up to face off against the Box Ghost.

...Who just threw a box full of the dripping-green-goo mechanical frogs at Sam and Tucker. Luckily, Sam knew how to dodge, so only Tuck ended up with a frog on his head.

I rolled my eyes as he proceeded to be over dramatic about the situation. "You guys head to the assembly, I'll get this moron sealed up tight."

Sam nodded as she tugged the frog off of Tucker, then each grabbed a box and took off. I turned back to Boxy just in time to see him levitate a box full of scalpels at me.

...Wait.

"OH CRAP!" I turned intangible as fast as I could, half a dozen knives passing through me. Reflexively covering my chest to staunch non-existent wounds, I realized, "Maybe Sam had a point…."

If this is what the frogs experienced, there's _no way_ in _hell_ I'd be dissecting _any_ of them.

_You might want to duck._

"Huh?"

And of course that's when the Box Ghost slammed into me, throwing me through three walls and into the auditorium. The harsh landing shocked me back to human form. "...Uh, whoops?" I mumbled, trying to call my powers back.

_Again, duck._

Seriously, dude, quit distracting me!

But then a ton of clothes was covering me. I could faintly hear Boxy chuckling something about a play and a lady, but I was too busy trying to fight my way out of the pile to understand.

Then, of course, Sam came onto the stage, and her projected voice reached me just fine. "_Fellow students,_" she began, "_there is something sick and disgusting going on in this school, and I am here to show it to you!_"

Finally I wiggled out of the clothes pile, but I glanced down quickly to see I was in a dress. And not just _any_ dress, no, it was this ridiculous, hot pink, Southern Belle type _thing_. Before I could shrug it off (or even go intangible), people were laughing, and I discovered that the curtain that had originally been hiding me was now gone.

Dammit.

"Whoo!" someone who sounded suspiciously like Tucker whistled. "Take it off!"

_Yes, take it all off!_

Blushing a bright red (more from Samir than the students), I simply snarled back at him, _I __**will**__ find a way to melt you down into scrap metal!_

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

Apparently, cross-dressing in front of the entire student body was considered a "cry for help," so Lancer shuffled me down to the new student counselor (after making me change, of course). I was scowling as I sunk into the admittedly comfortable chair in her office.

"Ah, Miss Spectra," Lancer greeted her, "I've brought your first visitor!" He waved a hand at me, but I simply scowled back.

The redhead grinned, leaning back against her desk. "I see. And who might you be?"

My scowl lessened slightly. At least she, unlike the previous counselor, addressed me directly rather than talking about me for ten minutes with Lancer while I was still in the room. "...Danny Fenton."

Her smile lightened a bit into something more genuine. "Alright, Danny, what brings you here today?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but Lancer beat me to it. "Daniel decided to parade across the stage during our assembly while cross-dressing."

And now my glare had a new target. "It's not like I planned on that!" I spat back. "Some of the costumes fell on me, and before I could move, the curtain was pulled!"

Spectra glanced between us, then ushered Lancer to the door. "Well, thank you for dropping Danny off, Mr. Lancer, but I believe that you'll breach our doctor-patient confidentiality if you stay."

Lancer was the one scowling now. "But you're a _school counselor_, not a _docto—!_"

"Good-bye, Mr. Lancer." And she slammed the door in his face.

Best. Counselor. _Ever_.

I was grinning when she came back over and sat on her desk, leaning forward slightly with an elbow on her knee and her chin on her hand. "So, what _really_ happened?"

With a slight grimace, I explained to her the ghost-free version of the assembly. "I was helping Sam set up, and when I was leaving, I'd noticed a box up on a shelf. I thought it might've been more of her stuff, so I went to get it, but it tipped over onto me. By the time I'd gotten out from under everything, the curtain had been moved aside and one of the costumes had landed on me."

She smirked. "So, not testing out cross-dressing?"

"No!" I exclaimed, blushing bright red as Samir murmured, _Would if you asked._ He really needs to learn to shut up.

_What? She's hot! And that skirt suit…._

I think my face is permanently red now….

"Okay," she said easily, not seeming concerned about my blushing at all. She stood, pushing herself off her desk, and went around to sit behind it. "You can go, then, if you'd like."

I blinked. Seeing the counselor, in my experience, was _never_ this easy. They usually attempted to get on the topic of my parents so they could judge exactly what mental issues they had, then when I claimed them to be sane, they'd start going through what could be wrong with me, too. "...What?"

That smile was back. "You're free to go." She waved at the door. "I'll fill out the paper saying you've got a clean bill of mental health, Lancer'll get off your case, and in a couple days, the school will have forgotten all about it."

I'm pretty sure my jaw was on the floor in shock at this point.

"And if there's anything else you'd like to talk about, my door's always open."

She… she was actually being _nice_. And taking _my_ side for once! ...Damn, our new counselor _rocks!_

I stood, starting towards the door, but glanced back for a moment, a smile slowly turning up my own lips. "...Thanks."

"Anytime, Danny," she said as I left, "anytime."

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

"Thanks a lot, Danny," Sam seethed at me when we were on our way to class. "You ruined my whole speech!"

"Not like I _meant_ to," I grumbled.

"I mean, what the hell were you even _doing_ up there? And in that _My Fair Lady_ dress, too!"

"Again, not on purpose."

"And now my entire protest is down the drain! That's a good three hundred frogs you just got dissected, Danny." She spun around to jab her finger into my chest with each word. "_Three. Hundred. Frogs!_"

I rolled my eyes. "Done yet?"

She sighed, leaning back against a locker. "Yeah. Sorry."

"No problem." She always needed a good rant when something went wrong, and usually never meant a word she said during said rant. I was used to being blamed for things that either hadn't really happened or that weren't my fault just so she could vent. It's what friends do.

"What're we even doing down this hall?" she finally asked, glancing around. Tucker had just caught up with us, also looking confused.

With good reason, too. We were down by the band hall, which was basically a no man's land in our school. I pulled out the paper Lancer had given me prior to my meeting with Ms. Spectra. "I got a new locker, since Boxy and I kinda broke my old one."

Tucker snagged the paper from my hand, looking it over. As he read my locker assignment, though, his eyes went wide. "_W—What?!_" he gaped. He glanced up at me, eyes still about twice their normal size. "Y—You—They—_What?_"

Sam scowled, not liking to be out of the loop, and snatched the paper away from Tuck. "Gimme that." She glanced down at it, reading much quicker, and for a moment, it didn't seem to surprise her.

Then she reread the number. "_WHAT!_" she shrieked.

I rolled my eyes again. Yeah, called that one a mile away.

_You could make a __**lot**__ of money betting people on these sorts of things._

Shut it, I'm still mad at you.

_But you could be __**rich!**_

Ignoring now.

"They _can't_ give you _Poindexter's locker!_" Tucker yelped, grabbing onto my shoulders and shaking me. "You could _die_ if you open it! Or—Or other kids'll start dying, and—!"

One of my brows arched up at that. "You can't be serious. You actually _believe_ that old story?"

Both of my friends stared at me blankly for a second before Sam spoke. "Danny… you're in a haunted town, and you're _half-ghost_. Of _course_ we believe the legend!"

I can no longer take my friends seriously.

_They do have a point, though._

Still ignoring you.

"Guys, it's _fine_. I really doubt they'd give me a locker that'll _kill people_."

"They're _teachers_, Danny," Tucker deadpanned, "they don't care."

Sam and I both rolled our eyes at that, all too used to Tucker's melodramatics. Instead, I reached out to dial in the combination for the locker, shivering slightly when my hand touched the cold metal.

_Um…._

Nope, still ignoring you.

_But_—

No.

I opened the door, shrugging off my backpack to start putting all my books and supplies away. As I glanced inside, though, I noticed a mirror in the back. "Huh?" I reached out, brushing my fingers against it to remove some dust, seeing that it actually looked pretty nice, if a bit old. So I just shrugged and left it there, continuing to unload my bag. It didn't take long for my entire bag to be emptied into the locker, books along the bottom, jacket hanging from a hook, and notebooks up top. I stepped back, happy to see that, for once, I was actually organized, when someone grabbed me by the back of my shirt collar.

Dammit.

_I tried to warn you, but noooo_.

Shut up.

"Hey, Fendork, nice new locker!" Baxter sneered at me. "Let's see how _you_ fit in it!"

And now I'm inside a closed locker. Awesome.

_Y'know, you could always get him back._

Yeah, right, the dude's only twice my size.

_Size doesn't mean anything when someone has __**ghost powers.**_

Oh, I like this idea. I'm no longer ignoring you.

'_Bout time._

Before I could faze through the locker door, though, Tuck pulled it open, saying, "Told you, this locker's cursed."

I just glared after my target, tugging Sam and Tucker closer so as to hide the flash from my transformation before taking off down the hall and overshadowing Dash. Then, I made him slam himself into a couple of walls before dunking his head in the janitor's mop water and exiting, switching back to human form when I was next to my friends again.

Tucker gave me a high-five, laughing hysterically as Dash freaked out over finding himself in the dirty water.

_Not __**quite**__ what I had in mind…._

Who cares? That _rocked!_

"'Bout time you used your powers for some payback!" Tucker exclaimed.

Sam, however, just stared us both down, and I just _knew_ I was going to get a lecture from her later about this.

Oh, well. Totally worth it.

"C'mon," I said, starting to head towards our next class, "the bell's gonna ring!"

They rushed after me, but Sam's glare told me I wasn't going to get out of her rant that easily.

Dammit.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

So, the problem with a school that calls up your parents about every little thing? Well, none, usually, but my parents are highly obsessive. The call about my new locker assignment had them all sorts of paranoid that my new locker was haunted.

Which it wasn't. Duh. ...It just might be cursed….

Either way, Mom happily announced the next morning before I left for school that, "Don't worry, you'll barely notice us while we're staking out that locker during normal school hours!"

To which Jazz took offense. "_WHAT?_" she shrieked at them, finally looking up from one of her psychology textbooks. "No!" She rushed over and hugged me, trying to shield me from the weirdness that is our parents, as she had done since we were little kids. "Danny's at a very delicate stage in life! He's already considered a clumsy nerd by his peer group, the last thing he needs is you two confirming it!"

Exactl—Wait, hey!

"Gee, _thanks_, Jazz, _great_ defense," I grumbled to her, pulling away. "Total confidence-builder."

I am trying _really_ hard not to hear Samir laughing at me right now….

But then Dad grabbed these huge metal gloves Mom had been working on, tugging them on over his own gloves and doing a few (really bad) karate moves. Seriously, he's married to a ninth-degree black belt in about ten different martial arts. You'd think she'd have taught him at least a _few_ moves.

"And the _best_ part," Dad exclaimed, "is that when that ghost comes out of your locker, I can spar with it, mano a ghosto, with the new Fenton Ghost Gauntlets!"

_...Ghosto?_

Yeah, we gave up on him a long time ago.

Jazz glanced at Dad for a moment, then ruffled my hair. "Sorry. Maybe girls'll talk to you in college?"

And she left before I could even respond to that.

_With what? She has a point._

Jerk.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

If there's one thing in our school that I can't stand, it's the bullies. The jocks and cheerleaders think that, just because they're popular, they can get away with anything. And, of course, the teachers just _let_ them. It makes me sick sometimes, watching this stuff happen and not being able to do anything to stop it.

For instance, this afternoon, I had been grabbing my lunch from my new locker when a bunch of football jocks were picking on our band's tuba player, Tony Matoone. It just made me so _mad_, I didn't even remember to grab my lunch and just slammed my locker shut instead, storming off to look for some place to cool down.

"Danny?"

I blinked, realizing that I'd walked past the counselor's office. Ms. Spectra was at her door, concerned green eyes focused on me. "Uh, yeah?"

She frowned slightly, her brows peaking. "Is something wrong?"

I turned fully to face her then, my anger just exploding. "It's not fair! The stupid jocks get to do whatever they want, and nobody ever tries to stop them! Every time anyone gets bullied, _they're_ the ones who get in trouble for missing a class or something!" I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut as my fists shook at my sides. I could feel my eyes turning green and didn't want her to see.

Soft footsteps came over to me, and I felt a hand on my shoulder, steering me into her office. Once inside, I gratefully sat in the chair by her desk, slumping back in it.

She was perched on her desk again, leaning forward slightly. "Danny, these bullies, who were they picking on?"

"Tony Matoone," I mumbled, feeling like a snitch.

_That's 'cause you are._

Gee, thanks.

"And who was bullying him?"

I glanced away from her again, not wanting to say any more. After all, if those guys ever found out that I ratted them out, I'd probably be stuck in my locker for a year.

She sighed, then pushed herself off her desk to squat beside me, grabbing my chin to make me meet her eyes. "Danny, you realize whatever you say in here is confidential, right? I can tell Lancer who did the bullying without saying who told me."

I bit my lip. "But… if they find out…."

"They won't, Danny, I'll make sure of it."

We stared at each other for a long moment, her finally letting go of my chin, and my fingers drumming on the chair's arms as I nibbled at my lip, trying to decide.

"...Jordan Andrews and Steve Kinnel," I finally murmured.

She sighed again before smiling at me. "Thank you, Danny. I'll go let Lancer know what happened." As she stood to leave, I grabbed onto her sleeve, stopping her. "Yes?"

"They—They won't know I told?"

She smiled once more at me. "As far as they know, I saw them myself."

Then she was gone.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

I did eventually make it to lunch, and when I did, it was to hear the entire popular table complaining about pranks gone wrong.

"It was weird, man," Jordan was telling Kwan and Paulina, "I mean, outta nowhere, this locker door just _nails_ me!"

Paulina was furiously brushing at her hair, trying to remove what looked like fire extinguisher foam. "It's gonna take _weeks_ to get this stuff out!"

"It's like the school's haunted or something!" Kwan exclaimed.

I smirked, glad that there was finally some kind of payback for all the bullying. Sam, however, was glaring at me. "Gee, Danny, sounds like _someone's_ been busy."

I turned to her, blinking. Wait, she thought that _I_—? "What? No, Sam, it wasn't me! Now, Dash earlier, _that_ was me."

She still scowled. "Danny, I don't think you should be using your powers like—"

But then Lancer came in, and Sam got that time-to-protest gleam in her eye. "Be right back!"

And she took off.

Tucker, however, was grinning at me. "Dude, it's about _time_ someone struck a blow for Sydney Poindexter!"

I rolled my eyes. "Seriously? _That_ again? Tuck, it's just an old leg—"

"It's _not_ a legend, Danny!" And once again, he's shoving a PDA in my face. "Sydney Poindexter really _was_ from our school, class of '53 and everything! He was the victim of more school pranks than anyone else in the _history_ of Casper High School! Dude, picking on him was a graduation requirement."

One of my eyebrows rose at that and I couldn't help but ask, "Then, how'd _he_ graduate?"

Tuck just glared. "He didn't, dude. He ate a bullet a couple months before graduation."

I blinked. "Somebody shot him?"

He shook his head. "He suicided. Couldn't take the bullying any more. But he got stuffed in his locker so many times, they say his spirit still inhabits it to this very day."

But, wouldn't his spirit more likely be wherever he killed himself?

Sam walked back over before I could comment, carrying a box full of—

"Sam, what are you doing with those?" I demanded as the slimy green frogs hopped around inside the box.

"Nothing!" she said, smiling nervously. "I'm certainly _not_ trying to smuggle the frogs out of the bio lab while Lancer isn't looking."

...And they tell me _I'm_ a bad liar.

But suddenly I had a face full of food. I swiped it off, glaring up at Dash, who just smirked, his buddies behind him laughing. "Meet my new locker neighbor, guys. Think I should get him a moving-in present?"

More laughs, more food in my face. They left as I was wiping it off, and I glared after them, my eyes starting to glow until Sam put a hand on my shoulder. "Danny, calm down. He's not worth it."

I sighed. "Yeah, I guess you're—"

This time, it was a full bottle of soda that hit me in the face, and I nearly fell backwards off the bench. As it was, Sam had to help keep me from falling, and I could feel a bruise forming under my eye. "_That's it!_" I yelled, standing up.

"I wonder how Dash would feel if he had a frog in his throat?" Tuck said, smirking.

_Don't do that to the poor frog._

Ignoring that, I glanced down at the box Sam had brought and smirked. "Or twelve down his pants…."

Sam snatched the box up before I could. "Oh, no, you don't! I am _not_ letting you exploit and traumatize these frogs any more than they've already been!"

Oh, we'll see about that.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

I caught Dash at his locker after school that day. Invisibility is the best thing ever. I was able to give him an atomic wedgie, then dump a few frogs down his pants without him even realizing someone else was there.

As he hopped away, trying to shake the frogs off, I chuckled to myself. Man, that was so—

_Problem_.

Huh?

_You moron, don't you __**feel**__ that?_

I blinked, trying to sense what Samir was talking about. Uh, no? What the heck is going on that's got you so worried?

_Look at your locker, dumbass._

Ignoring the insult, I did as he said, watching as the locker first glowed, then a person pulled themselves out of it.

Through the closed door.

Oh, crap, Tucker was right.

"You think that's _funny?_" the ghost of Sydney Poindexter snarled at me.

"Um—" I tried, but he cut me off, jabbing a finger in my face.

"You leave that poor kid alone!"

I blinked for a moment, then realized what he'd just said and chuckled again. "Oh, dude, you've got this so—"

"Don't jive me, Clyde," he interrupted. "You're the bully from where I'm standing!"

I couldn't help it. I pointed at his feet, which were a good five inches off the ground. "Floating."

He glanced down. "Uh, floating." Then he raised his hands, which began glowing green, and glared at me again. "Let's see how _you_ like getting bullied!"

You mean like I do every freaking day?

But then all the lockers around me were glowing, and before I could move, they all emptied their junk onto me, at about fifty miles an hour. I dodged as much as I could before finally getting the chance to go intangible, letting it all pass harmlessly through me.

"Look, you don't understand—!"

"I understand a bully when I see one!" he yelled back, his eyes glowing before a massive beam shot out of them and slammed into me.

I was flung down the hallway, through the library, and back out another wall before I managed to get turned back around and head back.

_For someone who was beat up and picked on all through school, he's a lot stronger than you._

Gee, thanks, hadn't noticed.

I came back to where my locker was, seeing Sam collecting the last of the frogs again. Poindexter was still glaring at me, though, saying, "Put an egg in your shoe and beat it!"

Sam glanced up at him just as Tucker walked over.

"Wherever there is a single nerd in need, I will be there!" Poindexter declared, pointing towards Tuck.

Who took offense. "Hey, who're you callin' a nerd?"

I lunged at Poindexter to tackle him, but apparently he'd just learned to control his intangibility and I tackled Tucker instead.

Then Tuck realized who it was I was fighting. "Dude, that's the guy who used to have your locker!" He smirked at me. "In your face, skeptic!"

I glared over at him, but apparently that gave Poindexter the idea to shoot ink into my face. While he was laughing over his prank, I slammed him down into the basement, landing harshly myself.

_You realize you're changing back, right?_

No duh, Sherlock. I'd wasted a ton of energy today pranking Dash, and now this jerk was tossing me around. Of course I changed back.

"Holy socks, you're the halfa!"

Where have I heard that term before? "The what-a?"

_Skulker used it._

"The halfa!" Poindexter exclaimed. "Everyone in the Ghost Zone talks about you! You have our powers on the human plane! Half a boy, half a ghost, the halfa!" He was actually grinning now, obviously excited to have met me.

Then, the smile disappeared. "And you use your powers for _evil?_"

"Wha—? No! I don—!"

"No! There is no excuse for such a misuse of power!"

I seriously need to get this guy to listen to me. I waved my arms trying to get his attention back. "Look, I took over Dash's body because—"

But he had focused in on something. "You can take over someone's body?"

I blinked at him. "Um, yeah?"

"Jeepers creepers, I would _flip_ if I had your powers!" He put a finger to his chin, glancing away for a moment. "I wonder…."

Um, why do I get the feeling that this won't be good?

_Because it won't. Move!_

But the warning came too late, and Poindexter had already entered my body.

And then our auras clashed. My body twitched and spasmed, the two auras pushing and shoving at one another even worse than Tucker and I had when we tried to both overshadow Paulina. Samir was even part of the pushing and shoving, trying to help me force Poindexter out, but my overexertion earlier today caused me to be too weak. There was this wrenching movement, then a deep-seated pain that tore through my whole body, and I know I was screaming, but the sound had stopped, the sight had stopped, and suddenly all there was was _pain_. It was agonizing, ripping me in half then in fourths then into confetti and burning the little shreds until nothing was left.

And when I opened my eyes, there were two. I could see myself on the ground, groaning and rubbing my head, but I could also see Poindexter staring in shock at me.

But then I could only see myself, as the half of me still in my own body was finally forced down by Poindexter. He smirked at me, saying, "You may use your powers for bullying, but I sure as sugar won't!"

Then, there was another tugging and pulling, my body watching as I was dragged away, sucked back into the locker Poindexter had escaped from and into the mirror.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

When I—well, the part of me in Poindexter, the ghost half of me, Phantom—woke up, it was in a washed-out, black-and-white version of school. My initial thought was that everything in the '50s really _was _black and white, then I realized I had no idea how to get back. As soon as I woke, I was tugged out of the locker by a jock who sneered down at me. "Well, well, the little Nazi decided to show up today."

Nazi?

He turned to his buddies, smirking. "Think we should show this Nazi what he gets for losing the war?"

"B—But—" I tried to protest, but they just grabbed me, dragging me off into one of the bathrooms and dunking my head in a toilet, flushing it a few times as I coughed and sputtered. Finally, they tossed me against the wall of the bathroom, my head hitting back into the brick wall and stunning me for a moment as they left, laughing.

In all the years that Dash and his friends had picked on me, they'd never been this rough….

_**They hate me….**_

I blinked, looking around for the voice before realizing it hadn't come from outside, it came from… from my head.

From a portion of Poindexter that was still stuck here.

_**They all hate me….**_

Something dark and heavy was pressing down on me, and where a moment ago I had been ready to jump back up and prank those jerks for what they'd done, now I just felt like… like there wasn't a point. Why should I even bother getting up...?

_To get __**out**__ of here!_

Samir? You're still around?

_Of course, I'm connected to __**your mind**__, not your body. I'm in both places right now. Do you know how confusing that is?_

Um, not really? But, why should I get up? They're just gonna….

_**They'll just beat me up again….**_

_That is __**Poindexter**__ talking, __**not you**__. Get up, kid, or you'll be stuck living out his life!_

So?

_Don't you remember what Tucker told you about him?_

Yeah, he was bullied pretty much constantly and by everyone. And… And then he….

_Suicided. You stay here, you'll live that out._

...Oh, crap….

But, how do I get out? I mean, everyone's—

_**Everyone's gonna pick on me….**_

_Stop listening to him! Now, get up, and get back to that locker!_

I nodded, finally forcing myself to stand up, gravity seeming to push at me more than normal, but I managed to get up and head back out into the hallway.

People were laughing at me as I wandered back to my locker, head down and hair still dripping from the toilet water. I didn't even see the jock that I ran into. I winced back, mumbling, "S—Sorry…."

"Oh, you _will_ be, Poindexter," he snarled back, grabbing me by the collar and shoving me into a trashcan.

The lid was quickly closed, shutting me into the dark, smelly place, and I tried to push it open again, but it didn't work.

_**No, not again! D—Don't—!**_

Then the world tipped with a loud clanging noise, and more followed it, reverberating around me and echoing in my sensitive ears, forcing me to cover them to no affect. The can shook as people took turns kicking it, and I could feel it rolling through the halls from people's kicks.

"_Let's see how you like __**this**__, Nazi!"_ someone outside yelled, then there was another painful, loud kick.

And I was tumbling. They had gotten the trash can over to the stairs, and now I was sent bouncing down them inside the can. Upon hitting the bottom landing, the lid flew off and I spilled out, trash sticking to my clothes, skin, and hair, Poindexter's glasses flying away and smashing, and my arms and legs tangling up and landing awkwardly, painfully. I winced as I tried to untangle myself enough to sit up, head throbbing and limbs shaking. What the hell was with this school?

_**Why…? Why do they always do this to me? What did I do to deserve this? Why—Why do I have to suffer…?**_

I stumbled away from the stairs, seeing this hallway empty since the bell had rang, and slid down the wall to sit, clutching my knees to my chest. Why did they do that to me?

_No! Not __**you**__, to __**Poindexter!**__ You're __**not**__ him, kid!_

But… it definitely _felt_ like they were doing this to me….

_But they __**weren't**__. They were doing it to __**Poindexter**__. Now, you need to get back to that locker and get out of here!_

R—Right. Unless….

_**Unless they hurt me again….**_

I winced, tucking my head further into my knees. They wanted to hurt me, they all wanted me to be hurt, to be in pain. Why did they hate me? Why—Why—

_**Why do they want me dead?**_

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

While I-as-Phantom was dealing with Poindexter's world and his suicidal remnant, I-as-Fenton was stuck staring at the world through my own eyes, unable to do anything as Poindexter controlled me.

I am _so_ glad that when I overshadow people, they aren't awake for it. It's a horrible feeling, watching your body do things that you aren't telling it to do and being unable to stop it.

First, the dude almost got caught by my parents and Lancer as he fazed back up through the floor, but Tuck managed to hide him, warning him after they'd left that, "You gotta be careful, man. Your parents almost caught your intangible act!"

Poindexter just made my body smirk before following my friends off to class. He was happily exclaiming about how cool it was to have friends, which, okay, yeah, duh, but still, Sam and Tuck knew me better than that.

"You sure you're okay, Danny?"

He didn't respond until Tucker prompted him as well. "Oh, right, um, yeah, I'm fine!"

Tucker rolled his eyes. "Sure…."

Sam, however, raised an eyebrow. "What's up with your voice?"

Yes! Thank you! I am _not_ that nasally! Finally, someone's gonna realize—

"Puberty."

Sam nodded.

NO! You're not supposed to _believe_ him!

"And what happened to Poindexter?" Tucker asked.

"Oh, that square?" Poindexter said, smirking. I have never wanted to punch myself before, but if it got his smirk off my face, I'd do it right now.

_Don't worry, I want to punch him, too._

You're still around?

_Am I really going to have the same conversation twice?_

Huh?

_Yes, I am. I'm with you and Phantom both. _

"He flew the coop, permanent-like," Poindexter finished, still grinning at Sam and Tucker as he noticed Dash having trouble with the soda machine. He rushed over, exclaiming that he'd help out, then reached inside the machine and forced a soda past the block and out the dispenser.

Dash quickly swiped it up, guzzling it down. "Thanks."

"No problemo!" Poindexter said happily.

Dash paused a moment, studying me—well, Poindexter in my body, but still. Then, he smirked. "Hey, I'm a bit short on quarters. Think you can hook my buddies up with some sodas?"

"Sure thing!" And Poindexter shoved another six sodas past the block, gathering them up to pass them around as Sam and Tucker finally caught up.

"Danny, that's _stealing!_" Sam immediately protested.

"I'm sure this poor kid's lost more than his fair share of quarters to the vicious bullies in this school," Poindexter hissed back. "I'm just evening out the score!" Then he passed out the sodas to all the jocks.

All of whom had already had a dollar out to use the machine themselves.

"Egg creams, on me!" Poindexter called out.

Kwan raised an eyebrow at the unknown term, but still caught the soda he'd been tossed. "No clue what an egg cream is, but thanks, dude."

Poindexter just grinned, making me wish I could throttle him out of my body.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

Samir finally talked me-as-Phantom back into heading for 724. It took a bit, but I managed to move and got back to the locker, opening it and staring into the mirror. "Okay," I mumbled to myself, trying to keep calm as I saw Poindexter's reflection instead of mine, "this is how I got in, so I should be able to get back out."

I brushed a hand against the mirror, trying to push through, but all that did was allow me to see through the real-world mirror into my school locker, the door of which was open.

Which meant I could watch as Poindexter handed out sodas and was praised by Dash and invited to a football game.

This sucks. I'm finally popular, and I'm not even _there!_

_It's okay, Fenton-you hates it, too._

Gee, that makes me feel _so_ much better.

Sam and Tucker walked past the locker, and I yelled out to them, "Sam! Tucker! No, get back here! It's me, it's Danny!"

But they didn't hear me. They walked away, watching as the jocks happily led Poindexter-in-my-body towards the football field.

As soon as Poindexter saw the locker was open, though, he slammed it shut, flinging me across the hall and into the opposite set of lockers.

"Ouch…." I grumbled.

"Hey, Poindexter!"

Oh, crap.

I glanced up to see another jock standing over me. "Um, y—yeah?"

"What's black and blue and can't touch the floor?"

_That can't have a good answer…._

No, it most certainly can_not_.

"Um, I don't know?"

And suddenly I'm in the air.

"_You!_"

The jock spent a few minutes beating me, then hung me from a ceiling fan by the back of my shirt. He left me there, laughing hysterically with his friends, who had come to watch.

I swung back and forth, trying to get free, but it was no use. I was stuck there.

_**I might as well just stay here. Maybe they'll come back and decide to use me as a piñata next….**_

And now I wasn't even trying to get loose. If this is really what I had to look forward to here—

_Don't you __**dare**__ finish that thought, kid. You've gotta ignore him. You're gonna get back to your own body soon._

Oh, yeah? How the heck am I gonna do that?

_You need to contact them. Use the mirror._

I glanced down at the locker. I guess I could try…. I swung again, this time finally dislodging from the fan and falling onto the floor. With a wince I stood, realizing I'd twisted my ankle pretty good, but I still limped over to the locker, pulling it open and pressing my hand to the mirror again.

"C'mon, please work…." I pushed against it, watching my hand glow green. Yes! Now just to get a message to them.

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

Football was a dumb idea. Unlike Poindexter, I was paying attention to what Dash said to his buddies. He was gonna let me get creamed by the other team, all of whom were at _least_ twice my size.

This was gonna suck.

But Poindexter managed to turn intangible and jumped out from the pile, running in for a touchdown.

And suddenly, the popularity skyrocketed.

Sick of watching the jocks fawn over Poindexter, I glanced over towards Sam and Tucker, seeing something glowing green in front of them that they were about to look at—

Until Mom and Dad stormed over it, exclaiming about their ghost hunt and staking out the school. Then, Dad gave Tuck the Ghost Gauntlets as he ran off, probably to the bathroom given the speed. Mom just followed him. Sam and Tucker talked for a bit, then Sam came over towards Kwan, carrying one of her "Save the Frogs" badges.

Which Poindexter noticed. "Oh, boss badge!" he exclaimed, grabbing it from her. "Can I have one?"

And suddenly, everyone was asking her for them. She happily grinned before turning away. "Don't worry, plenty more in my locker where that came from!" And she and Tucker took off.

Poindexter pinned on his badge, smiling around at everyone as they loitered about for a few minutes before deciding they'd waited long enough.

"Hey, Fenton," Dash said, walking over, "go make sure your girlfriend's getting us those badges, huh?"

"Oh, sure!" Poindexter agreed immediately.

Dash smirked. "Cool. Then we'll be going to your place for that party, right?"

Poindexter blinked, obviously having thought that they were going to someone else's place. But he quickly grinned again. "Sure!"

And he ran inside, not even realizing that they were gonna totally trash my parents' house if they actually did come over.

I'm gonna be in _so_ much trouble….

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

I-as-Phantom panted as I felt the energy message I'd sent get destroyed. That took up a lot more energy than I'd expected. I sighed, realizing how stupid this whole thing was. There was no way I'd get back now, so I curled up on the floor again.

_**I'd be better off dead….**_

This time, Samir didn't interrupt, didn't stop the thought from reaching me, and that crushing weight slammed into me again. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move, I just sat there as tears started spilling down my cheeks without me really noticing.

_**I already have the gun…. I just need a place….**_

I felt the body pick itself back up, barely realizing that the sliver of Poindexter left behind was back in control, rummaging through the locker for a small bag. I could feel the metal inside it.

_**I should've done this years ago. Would've saved me so much pain…. The forest, I think. That'll be where….**_

The body turned, starting towards the doors.

_Oh, no, you __**don't!**_

Samir's voice shocked me back into control, and I immediately tossed the bag back into the locker, shivering as I realized what had almost happened. I reached past it, shoving my hand into the mirror once more.

This time, I finally got through. "Sam, Tucker!"

The two gasped, staring into the mirror._ "...Poindexter?" _Sam asked, looking incredibly confused.

"No, it's me, Danny!"

Both gaped at me, Tucker raising an eyebrow. _"Oh, yeah? Prove it."_

Heh, okay, Tuck, if you really want me to….

"Back in second grade, you threw up in Sam's lunch box but told her that Ricky Marsh did it!"

"_What!"_

"_SHUT IT!"_

"_But I kicked him off the monkey bars for that!"_ No, really, she had. Poor kid had a broken leg for six weeks after that, and a fractured arm for five. Needless to say, he never, _ever_ got anywhere near Sam (or monkey bars) again.

Then, both turned back to the mirror. _"__**Danny?**__"_

"Look," I said quickly, unsure how long I'd be able to ignore Poindexter's voice in the back of my head, even with Samir's help, "I can't faze through this mirror, and I'm stuck in this weird ghost world where I'm constantly bullied—"

"_So, just like here?"_ Tuck said, smirking.

"Shut it, Tuck." I wasn't exactly gonna tell them that there was something in my head trying to get me to shoot myself. I'd rather they _not_ think I'm going insane. "I can't get out of here, guys."

Sam and Tuck thought this over for a bit before Sam grinned. _"But Poindexter can get back in."_

"Oh, yeah, 'cause I'm _sure_ he's just _itching_ to get back here," I said, rolling my eyes.

"_But if there were some way to trick him," _Sam began.

My eyes went wide. "I think I've got an idea!"

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

It was pretty simple, really. Sam just told Poindexter, who was on his way over, anyway, that someone was shoving a nerd into his own locker. He came running, transforming into my ghost mode as he did and declaring, "I'll save you, Tucker!"

There was a moment's pause as he glanced around, realizing Tucker was standing next to him and no one was getting tossed into a locker.

Well, yet.

"Hey, there's no nerd getting shoved into a locker!" he exclaimed.

Which, of course, was Tucker's cue. He pulled his hands from behind his back, showing that he'd put on the Ghost Gauntlets, and grabbed Poindexter, saying, "There is now!"

Then, Poindexter's back hit the mirror, and I-as-Phantom pulled him through. I tossed him into the far wall, glaring down at him. "Okay," I said, "you had your fun, now I want my body back!"

"No!" he yelled, jumping back up. "You're nothing but a bully! I'm a _much_ better halfa than you were!"

And he swung a fist at me. Very slowly. It was simple to side-step it.

He glared, swinging again and again, but I just kept dodging. Pretty soon, I was chuckling at his pathetic attempts. "You wouldn't hit a guy with glasses, would you?"

Swing, duck.

"You _couldn't_ hit a guy with glasses!"

Swing, duck.

"In fact, you couldn't hit the broad side of a barn!"

Swing, duck.

He scowled at me. "Hold still!"

Oh, yeah, that sounds like a smart idea.

_Not._

Oh, hey, you're back.

_Yes, now hurry up. This split is giving me a headache._

You? And you think _I'm_ fine?

_You might want to duck._

Luckily, I dodged just in time as people began crowding around us.

"Look, Poindexter's fighting that halfa bully!"

Okay, seriously?

"I am _not_ a _bully!_" Of course, my yell gave Poindexter the chance to get in a cheap shot at me, shoving me into the locker.

He grinned. "Now, if you don't mind," he said, "I'm gonna live it up some more in _your_ body!"

But by then, I'd gotten back out of the locker, holding up my secret weapon.

Poindexter stared at the mirror in shock. "What're you—? Be _careful_ with that!"

I glared back at him. "No. You either give me back my body, or I smash your ticket back to my world."

His eyes were wide, glancing between me and the mirror. "Y—You wouldn't! Y—You'd strand us _both_ here!"

"_Try me_," I snarled back.

There was a pause, then he lunged for the mirror, but I just lifted it above his reach. He scowled again, then suddenly he was grinning. "I've got a better idea," he declared. "I can _make _you!" He gestured to himself, continuing, "With _your_ powers, I can make you do _anything!_"

Then he was diving at me as I carefully placed the mirror in the locker behind me.

He fell for it.

Once more, our auras clashed. This time, I was ready, expecting the pain, the tearing, the sudden silence and the darkness. Samir once more helped, shoving and pushing at the force that was trying to take me over yet again. But this time, Poindexter was the one who'd overexerted himself. I shoved him aside, dealing with the ripping and tearing and shredding and burning, and reclaiming my body.

I zoomed out of him, this time with only one set of vision (but a very confusing overlap of memories, much worse than the brief split I'd experienced from the Ghost Catcher), and angled myself towards the mirror, quickly rushing through the portal before Poindexter could recover.

I still heard his scream of _"NOOO!_" as I escaped, though.

With a shiver, I shoved open the door to my locker, falling out—onto Mr. Lancer, who dropped the box of frogs he'd held and took off after them.

Sam just watched, sarcastically saying, "Oh, no, whatever shall we do?" Then, she and Tucker turned to me. "Nice job, Danny."

Tucker's eyes narrowed. "But how do we know you're _really_ Danny?"

I sighed. "Because I used my powers for the wrong reason and became the exact kind of person I hate. But, I learned my lesson, and I won't be doing that again." I paused for a moment, a finger to my chin. "Well, not to that extent."

And without overshadowing anyone. I'd definitely had enough of that.

Sam grinned. "That sounds like the Danny we know."

I grabbed for the mirror again, taking it out of my locker. "Just one more thing to do."

And I smashed it on the floor.

I'd like to see Poindexter get through there _now_.

"FENTON!"

Oh, crap.

We all turned to see Lancer and all the popular kids who'd gotten "Save the Frogs" badges. "That is _school property!_"

"I can explain!"

_Uh, no, you can't._

Oh, right. I bit my lip. "...Actually, I really can't…."

Lancer scowled at me. "I am holding you responsible for this, _and_ the escaped frogs!"

Hey!

_Actually, you are the most recent reason they escaped._

Okay, fine….

"But," Lancer continued, "seeing as fine, upstanding students like Dash Baxter have made their opinions known," stupid jocks, "I'm willing to overlook the frogs." Then, Lancer turned to Sam and had the gall (and the guts) to say, "You could learn a thing or two from them about activism, Ms. Manson."

And that is a glare I _never_ want to be on the receiving end of. It's a miracle Lancer didn't burst into flames where he stood.

"Now," Lancer said, "there's still the issue of your destruction of school property…."

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

And that's how I found myself scheduled for mandatory meetings with Ms. Spectra, not that I minded.

_Who'd mind getting to be with her for an hour each week?_

I am back to ignoring you.

_Dammit._

Anyway, any and all popularity Poindexter managed to wrangle for me was gone after that. I sighed to Sam and Tucker. "My fifteen minutes of fame are up, and I wasn't even _here_ for them!"

Sam just grinned, holding up one of her metal frogs. "But it wasn't a total loss!" She lifted the frog higher. "This baby's gonna get some use after all!"

And a small set of chills hit me as the Box Ghost swooped down and snagged the device from Sam, yelling out, "I am no longer the Box Ghost, I am now… the _Mechanical Frog Ghost!_"

But then the thing started sparking, which spooked Boxy into dropping it on Tuck's head.

"Uh… I changed my mind!" Boxy yelped. "I am once again the Box Ghost, who will have nothing to do with mechanical amphibians!" He dove down past us, screaming out one last, "_BEWARE!_"

I sighed. "Well, at least someone around here knows exactly who he is."

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

My first (well, no, second) mandatory meeting with Ms. Spectra went as well as could be expected, given that the second I walked in there, she was grinning at me, trying not to laugh.

I scowled. "What?"

"You do know breaking a mirror is seven years of bad luck, right, Danny?" she chuckled.

I rolled my eyes. "Ha, ha, very funny."

She smiled, this time without the humor. "But, seriously, Danny, why did you break that mirror?"

I sunk back in the chair, mumbling, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you…."

"Try me."

It had to have been those words. Two little, insignificant words, but given what all had happened to me earlier and when I used them myself, I couldn't help but start bawling.

She slid off her desk, coming over and hugging me. I turned towards her, trying to just stop the tears, and she rubbed my back, waiting for me to calm down.

It took a good ten minutes, but I finally did. I sniffled as I pulled away from her.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concerned green eyes meeting mine.

I nodded, sniffling once more and rubbing at my nose. She offered a tissue, and I finally was calm enough to speak again.

"What was that about?"

"I—There was this… kid. He—I was talking with him for a while, and he was really depressed, and—and he was talking about killing himself," I whispered.

Of course she heard it all. "Was this someone at the school?"

I shook my head. Well, he's not at the school any more…. "Just… a kid I met."

"Danny, did you tell anyone else about this?"

Once more, I shook my head. "I don't even know who he actually was. And then, he—he was just gone."

She nibbled her lip, glancing off to the side. "And you have no idea where he went?"

"No…."

She sighed, then hugged me again. "It's okay, Danny. Hopefully, talking with you made him feel a bit better."

For her sake, I nodded, but I really doubt that anything that I did made Poindexter feel any better.

"Danny, did… did this talk bring up any of those kinds of thoughts for you?"

_**I'd be better off dead….**_

"Danny?"

I blinked up at her, and apparently the look on my face said it all, because she hugged me again. I just stared blankly over her shoulder for a minute, trying to get that thought out of my head.

She let go, holding me at arm's length. "Danny, I want you to remember something for me, okay?" She waited until I had nodded before continuing. "Remember that you have a family who loves you, friends who love you, and, whether they may show it or not, teachers who love you. If you _ever_ have those sorts of thoughts again, please, talk to one of your friends or your family."

I bit my lip, glancing away for a second before looking back at her. "...What if I can't?"

She locked eyes with me again. "Then you can always talk to me."

**|)4|\||\|`/ |*|-|4|\|70|\/|**

A/N: Okay, that was a doozy. And about 10,000 words over three and a half months. Sheesh.

And, yes, Spectra has arrived. This is one of the changes I most look forward to, because, frankly, Spectra's sneaky. She's subtle. She would _not_ get caught so quick. So, she won't.

And, please, if anyone out there reading this is dealing with suicidal thoughts, remember that there are always people who love you, even if they may not exactly be obvious about their love.

So, next chapter's gonna be _Bitter Reunions_. You know what that means. Oh, yes. _Vlad's coming._

Peace, read and review, please!


End file.
